This Broken Road
by xBlackxRosexRebellionx
Summary: This is the story of a two-man team that slowly progressed into something more. Daryl and Kalina were always assigned to do supply runs together, forced to spend several hours together on their various missions for the group. This story depicts the thoughts, behaviors, interactions, reactions, and speech between the two. It is also told from both of their perspectives. DarylXOC
1. Chapter 1 - This Is the Life

**Author's Note (PLEASE READ!):**** PLEASE bear with me here. I know there are REALY long author's notes before and after the actual chapter here but I've got a lot of important things to point out.**

**First off, I'd like to point out that these revisions have taken a bit longer than I'd hoped they would. The revising process only took me a couple of days but it took me so damn long to get around to revising it because, quite frankly, I just didn't have the time with all the homework I had to do. However, there have been some changes made to this chapter. I've added about another page to the chapter with the revisions I made but I've cut some parts out, tweaked some stuff, and added some stuff. I cut about half of the lyrics I'd originally used out – so the songs are no longer listed in their entirety, just the parts that I thought applied to the story. I've also changed Kalina's looks and added a little bit more information into her and Daryl's perspectives – a bit more into their past and their thoughts. There will still be thank you notes at the bottom of the chapter, so be on the lookout for those. I'm also still looking for people that are willing to read over future chapters of this story – or any of my stories for that matter – and help give me feedback – suggestions for revision (what parts they think work and which parts don't work with explanations as to why they do or don't work) – so that I can revise my chapters better before posting them. I don't care if this person is a beta on Fanfiction or not. They don't have to have an English degree or any of that shit either – and, TRUST me, I'm not downing English majors because I AM one. I'm just saying, I don't have special requirements, just as long as they're willing to help and they can offer honest, helpful feedback.**

**Since this chapter is replacing the original one, Fanfiction will not allow you to re-review for this chapter so I'll be posting an author's note after my previous author's note to allow you to post your reviews there or you can always message me with your thoughts. What it amounts to is this: I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU. The more detailed the review, the more I know about what parts you liked and what parts you didn't like and why. This helps me gage the readers' reactions to my writing. It allows me to know what you want to read more of and what you don't. It helps me to improve in the future and provide you with better chapters.**

**That being said, I've blabbed enough. So read on, my friends.**

**This Broken Road**

**Chapter 1: This Is the Life**

_Oh the wind whistles down_  
_The cold dark street tonight_  
_And the people they were dancing_  
_To the music vibe_

_And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life_  
_And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size_  
_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_  
_And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life_  
_And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size_  
_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_  
_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_

_So you're heading down the road in your taxi for 4_  
_And you're waiting outside Jimmy's front door_  
_But nobody's in and nobody's home till 4:00_  
_So you're sitting there with nothing to do_  
_Talking about Robert Ragger and his motley crew_  
_And where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_

_And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life_

_And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_

_And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life_

_And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_

_Where you gonna sleep tonight?_

–=_**Daryl**__**=–**_

Daryl Dixon pulled up the winding drive, following the twists and turns until he put the truck in park in front of an old, abandoned farmhouse. The grass that surrounded the house was nearly knee high. The white paint was peeling off the sides of the house and the railing around the porch hadn't been touched up since the house was last painted either. The windows were covered with dust from years' worth of neglect and the glass was even broken in a few places.

"This place looks as good as any," he heard the raven-haired woman riding shotgun tell him as she peered up at the farmhouse with those chocolate colored eyes.

"Ya said that 'bout the last 3 places and they turned out to be a fuckin' bust," he retorted.

He wasn't in the mood for optimism, not that Kalina was a real optimist either. She was just as big of a realist as he was, and it had shocked him at first. She was never one to get her hopes up, just like he didn't let himself get HIS hopes up. Hell they had more in common than he cared to think about. Maybe that was why Rick was always sending them out on supply runs together. Well, that and the fact that they were the only two Rick could trust to actually come BACK with the supplies they'd found.

Rick had been assigning Kali to go out on supply runs with Daryl ever since Rick had discovered that Kali was just as tough and quick-witted as Daryl was. She worked well with Daryl because she was the only one out of the whole damn group that actually took the time to figure him out and she didn't push him.

Daryl and Kalina were the two-man team that Rick always sent out on errands because he knew that they'd come back alive. They had each other's backs, despite the fact that they were nothing more than friends. And "friends" might've even been stretching it a bit. It wasn't that they didn't get along. They did. But they weren't really the kind of people that got attached to anyone, yet another similarity that the two shared.

"Don't be a jackass, Dixon," Kali huffed before reaching out to push the passenger side door of the new Chevy – the one Daryl had managed to hotwire at one of the farms they'd found – open, "Just 'cause you're tired and fuckin' grumpy doesn't mean that my patience isn't wearin' any thinner either. Let's just do this and get it the fuck over with."

He gave a loud sigh but nodded. She was the first one out of the truck and she didn't wait for him like he'd thought she would either. Instead, she started right for the house, pulling her knife out of the sheath on her belt and keeping her eyes and ears sharp as she approached the old, abandoned farmhouse.

Daryl hopped out of the truck and grabbed his things from the back seat before starting for the house, his long legs eating up the distance that separated them quickly and easily as he followed after her. When they reached the steps to the porch, she started up them first, cringing and freezing in place when they both heard the loud _CREEEEEAK_ the second wooden step of the set of 5 made.

Daryl's crystal blue orbs met her chocolate ones and he nodded to her after a few moments, silently telling her that it was okay to continue since no danger had presented itself yet.

Kali nodded and started up the steps again, relieved when none of them creaked this time.

Like the house, the old door was in pretty poor shape. The wood was cracked here and there, the white paint chipping. It had a small, glass window in the center of the upper half of the door, the faded gold design that spiraled across the glass barely visible through the thick layer of dust that had gathered over it.

They made it to the front door and he held his hand out, gazing at her and giving her that silent "Stay put" look. She just nodded to him, letting him know that she understood what he wanted her to do. He was thankful that they could communicate with their facial expressions, hand gestures, and body language in times like these, times when they didn't know what lied ahead.

In the 4 months that Daryl had known Kalina since he'd stumbled onto her while he was out on a supply run, they'd come to read each other really well, which never ceased to surprise him since NO one but Kali had been able to read him. He'd always managed to mask his emotions in front of everyone else and they'd never known any different. But not Kali. She always managed to see RIGHT through it, which pissed him off to no end.

Daryl was really good at reading people, due to the fact that he was hyper-vigilant because of everything he'd experienced in his fucked up life up to this point. But Kali was better at reading people in general than he'd ever known ANYONE to be, himself included. It came in handy quite a bit. It often made him wonder what her past had been like, what her life had consisted of before the world had gone to shit. But her little talent was annoying as fuck when she tried to read him when he didn't want to be read.

Daryl held his hand out again, gesturing for her to stay put before he jerked his head in the direction of the front door to let her know that he was going to go in first. Again, she nodded to him, waiting for him to slowly reach out and try the door handle. It was unlocked, just like the rest of the houses they'd checked had been, and he pushed the door open. It creaked and they froze in place, their eyes growing real wide and darting to meet each other's gaze. If there were any walkers inside, they'd just alerted them to their presence. They held their breath as they waited, silently hoping that there weren't any walkers in the house.

Finally, Daryl nodded to her and she followed him into the house. He motioned with a little wave of his hand towards the kitchen for her to check that way before he gave a jerk of his head in the direction of the living room to let her know that he'd go that way. Kali just nodded and started in the direction of the kitchen while he started for the living room.

There was an old, box TV in the center of the living room, speakers built into the wooden frame that surrounded the TV. A large, faded, red and gold rug was laid out in front of a deep red, velvet couch with a cherry wood frame. A red brick fireplace was built into one wall and it had a black, metal grate in front of it. There was a large standing cabinet with various sets of china lining the shelves against another wall and a bookshelf filled with dust-covered paperbacks rested against the same wall, just a few feet away from the china cabinet.

He'd just finished making sure the living room was clear before he heard familiar footsteps. That was another thing the two of them had come to be familiar with. They'd learned to distinguish the sound of each other's footsteps from that of walkers as well as other living humans'.

He jerked his head for the steps as Kali came out of the kitchen from a different doorway than the one she'd entered through. She nodded to him and got a firmer grip on the handle of her knife.

Daryl started up the steps first, his eyes roaming up the steps on the way and then around the hallway on the second floor once it came into view. He listened closely to see if he could hear anything but his and Kalina's footsteps as she followed him closely.

They made it to the top of the stairs and she pointed to the doors on one side of the hall before giving a nod of her head in their direction. He nodded to her to let her know that she could clear those rooms and he'd take the ones on the other side of the hallway.

He found the bathroom first. It was clear. He found what looked like some sort of office, and it was clear too. He found that the last door was ajar just a crack and he eased his hunting knife out of the sheath at his belt, holding it up above his head with a firm grip on the handle even as he pushed the door open and stepped back. But he didn't have time to react.

He heard the unearthly growl just before the he felt the weight of the fucking walker pushing against him, tackling him to the floor. His knife hit the hardwood floor and slid just out of his grasp as he struggled with the undead geek. Just seconds later, before he had time to get the upper-hand, he heard the sick, wet sound of something sinking into flesh. The walker slumped on top of him, lifeless, and he scrunched his face up in disgust as its god-awful breath hit him as its face landed just in front of his chin.

He heard the wet slide of a blade being pulled out of the walker's skull just before he gave a firm shove at the walker's chest, rolling it off of him. Kali wiped her blade on the side of her stonewashed jeans and tucked it back into the sheath at her belt before she reached down to offer him her hand, pulling him up onto his feet.

"Saved your ass, Dixon," she pointed out as she picked up his hunting knife and handed it over to him, "You're welcome."

He glared at her and retorted, "I could've fought it off."

She shrugged and said, "You're right. You probably could've. Either way, I didn't want another walker to deal with and I don't exactly wanna be goin' out on supply runs with Shane or Merle. So I took the liberty of savin' your ass anyway."

He rolled his crystal blue orbs at her and she rolled those chocolate ones at him in return. It wasn't the first time she'd saved his ass, much to his displeasure. But he'd saved hers a few times too. He didn't trust ANYONE to have his back like he trusted her. Even MERLE could prove to be unreliable at times.

He also didn't like the idea of Rick sending Shane or Merle out on supply runs with Kali. It wasn't that he was jealous. He just knew that Shane was reckless. He'd be liable to get Kali or both of them hurt. And he wouldn't hesitate to leave Kali behind if it meant saving his own ass. And Merle… Well Merle was only out for himself. Daryl loved his big brother but Merle wasn't exactly the kind to lay his life down for someone else. Merle only looked out for one person – Merle.

Daryl wasn't stupid though. He'd seen the way Shane and Merle were always eyeing Kali up like his mom used to gaze at the bottles of Red Rooster Merlot in the liquor store when he was a kid. They thought she was a real treat and they were just DYING to try a taste of her. Just the thought of Rick sending Shane or Merle out on ANY kind of errand with Kali made Daryl sneer. She was safest with him, where he knew that she'd have protection when she needed it, where he could see her and know that she was safe and comfortable. She was uneasy around Shane and Merle and it wasn't hard to pick up that little fact. Hell the vibes just ROLLED off of her. She got fidgety when she was around them, eager to get out of whatever situation involved having to deal with either of them. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Daryl wouldn't put it past Shane or Merle to try to force themselves onto her either, ESPECIALLY if there was alcohol involved.

"The place is clean," she informed him, dragging him out of his thoughts, "Other than stinky there that tried to get a nibble outta ya. I'm gonna head back downstairs and see what I can raid from the kitchen."

He nodded to her and said, "I'll see what I can find up here."

Daryl searched through the cabinets and the medicine cabinet there in the bathroom, finding a few bottles of pain killers, a tube of Neosporin, and a First-Aid kit, which he stuffed into his bag. He checked the office but didn't find anything of importance, so he moved onto the bedrooms. He found some clothes he thought that some of the women might able to fit into and a few shirts Rick could've worn but that was it. He just hoped to hell that Kalina had more luck that he'd had.

He made his way down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.

Kali didn't even turn around as she announced, "I'm just finishin' my inspection of the cabinets. There were some decent knives here in the kitchen so I set 'em over there on the kitchen table. You're the weapons expert. See if they're useful for anything."

He went over to take a look at the knives she'd laid out on the kitchen table, finding that there were 5 of them. He smiled to himself. She'd picked the best knives. They were hunting knives. The blades were slightly dull but he'd seen worse. With some sharpening, they'd be as good as new. They were made of steel or silver, nothing cheap. They'd clearly been used by their previous owner but Daryl would take better care of him than whoever had owned them before had. He'd be sure to keep them sharp for frequent use. He was just glad that they weren't tarnished.

"Ya did good this time," he praised her.

It wasn't often that he praised her. Daryl wasn't really one for giving praise. Usually he tried to downplay things. But, after the shitty day they'd had and the bad luck they'd run into while searching the other houses, he figured a little praise was in order this time.

He heard her continue to go through the cabinets as he began to pick the knives up and inspect them a little closer.

"Thank GOD," she commented from where she was scouring the cabinets, "FOOD."

He chuckled at that. But he was glad that she'd managed to find some loot. Hell they'd come up with damn near next to nothing all fucking day up to this point. He glanced down at the knives again and a small smile curled his lips. There was a boning knife, a carving knife, a skinning knife, and a couple Bowie knives, one slightly shorter than the other. He opened his pack and eased the knife holder out of it. He started slipping the knives into the knife holder as he waited for her to tell him what she'd found.

When she didn't, he slipped the knife holder back into his pack and headed over to her.

He peered over her head, looking up into the nearly-empty cabinets and asking, "What'd ya find to eat?"

"Not much," she answered, "But enough to hold us over for the night."

It wouldn't be anything they could take back to the group, but it was better than nothing.

"Found a small box of white rice, a single can of sweat peas, and a roll of summer sausage. Once we cut that bad boy open though, it'll need to be refrigerated or it'll go bad. So we won't be able to take it with us. I can fry that shit all up and make us some dinner," Kali informed him.

It might not be the best, but it was all they had. He nodded to her and she found a couple small pots, a cutting board, and a skillet.

"Hey pass me one of those knives, would ya?" she told him, holding her hand out towards him.

–_**=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–**_

Daryl's eyes fixed to the plate Kalina set on the table before him and his stomach chose that opportunity to give a loud growl.

She giggled and gestured to the loaded plate, prompting, "Well… Ya don't just hafta stare at it, Dixon. Go ahead. Dig in."

He grabbed up his fork and dug in heartily, scooping a big bite of the concoction she'd made for them this time up onto his fork and shoveling it towards his mouth. The food was still hot and it burnt his mouth, but he didn't care. He had a plate full of food in front of him and they hadn't had anything to eat today until this very moment. He didn't care that it was some damn jumble of white rice, sweet peas, and fried summer sausage chunks all mixed together and he SURE as hell didn't care that it was still steaming. It was food and he was a starving man.

"Careful," Kali scolded gently as she took the seat across the table from him, "You'll burn your mouth."

He chose to ignore her, chewing quickly and swallowing it down so that the food wouldn't sit in his mouth for too long. He scooped another bite onto his fork and she rolled her eyes.

"Stubborn jackass," she teased with a little laugh.

He looked over at her as he guided that forkful of food into his mouth.

He watched as she blew lightly on her own bite of food, trying to cool it down, before bringing it to her mouth.

"It's not as bad as I thought it'd be," she commented.

"'S all right," he agreed.

Hell Kali could make a meal out of ANYTHING. He'd been quick to discover that while they were out on their supply runs. She'd even managed to make a meal out of a can of cat food and a half-empty bag of plain potato chips. With enough seasoning on the cat food and heating it up on the stove, it'd tasted good enough to dunk the chips into. Sure, it wasn't some fancy cuisine, but it was all they'd had at the time and she'd made due instead of bitching around about it. She wasn't one to bitch, a quality that he admired her for. It wasn't a quality most women possessed and it SURE as hell made spending time with her easier than spending time with most of the other group members in general – but the female population in particular. It wasn't that Daryl was sexist… He just found the women in their group to be annoying as hell and a bit overwhelming at times.

Kali was crafty and creative but he HATED how she was always putting everyone else's needs before her own. She'd go without just so other members of the group could have and the rest of the group was starting to take advantage of her after learning that little habit of hers. And he HATED that. She was selfless, a trait that many people admired a person for. But it was a trait that had gotten too many people killed once the world had gone to shit. In this world, the way it was now, a person had to look out for themselves. They couldn't let others get the idea that they could always rely on them for EVERYTHING. And they SURE as shit couldn't always rely on others to provide for them and protect them. And yet that was the solution the members of their group had come up with: Daryl and Kali will do it.

People took advantage of each other every opportunity they got now. And he'd be DAMNED if he was going to let the rest of the group use her like they were always using him. It wasn't that he had a little thing for her, because he didn't. He just respected her. She was the ONLY woman that he'd ever consider his equal instead of the weak, dependent things the rest of the women in the group had turned out to be. She could take care of herself and was happy to do so. The other women just bitched around when things didn't go their way and expected the men to protect them and provide for them. While he believed that it was only right for a man to look out for the women and children, that didn't mean that a woman shouldn't learn how to protect herself and her kids, ESPECIALLY with the damn zombie apocalypse going on. EVERYONEhad to be able to defend themselves these days. The walkers weren't picky about who they ate, as long as it was meat.

Kali gave a sigh between a couple bites and stated, "We'll hafta keep lookin'. We haven't found much to take back to the group."

He just nodded. She was right.

"Well… I don't know what you're gonna do but I'm gonna take a fuckin' bath after we get done eatin'," she informed him.

He just looked up at her and she pointed out, "That's the first decent tub we've seen so far in the past two days and I wasn't exactly too keen on askin' Hershel to use the one in his house since I wasn't one of the women that were in and outta there all that often. You might be alright with not showering for a fuckin' month butI'M sure as hell not. That tub looked MIGHTY damn fine to me so I'm gonna use it while I've got the chance."

"I wash up more than once a month," he protested, a pout curling his thin lips.

"Ya sure don't smell like it," she razzed playfully, laughing a little.

He gave a single snort of laughter and she pointed her fork at him from across the table, telling him, "You see, Daryl, a nice, long soak in a tub filled with hot water is one of the world's 7 greatest wonders."

He chuckled at that and asked, "Oh yeah?"

She just nodded and he questioned, "And what are the other 6?"

"That's easy," she answered, "Chocolate, sweet alcoholic beverages, a good night's sleep, a pair of strong arms to cuddle up in, a soft bed with warm blankets, and corned beef hash."

A small, crooked smirk curled at his lips.

She was a hell of a lot easier to please than other women and she was able to get by on next to nothing. He wondered if she'd always been like that.

One thing he liked about her was the fact that she never pushed him like Carol did. She didn't ask him personal questions and he didn't ask her about her life before the damn walkers had taken over either. She gave him his time and his space when he needed it. She didn't ask unnecessary questions or try to make a bunch of pointless small talk unless it was to try to lighten the mood. She didn't try to prod him to talk about his fucking thoughts or feelings. She knew when to drop a subject if she figured out she'd hit a nerve when they were discussing something. She just let him be for the most part and he offered her the same sort of privacy and space when she needed it. That's why they got along so well.

He just didn't like how she always put his needs before her own when they were out on supply runs, just like she always put the group's needs before her own. He absolutely HATED how she'd sneak things into her bag and try to give them to him later – whether it was his favorite kind of food or some clothes she thought he might like. She was always doing that shit, always thinking enough of him to find things for him on their supply runs. It wasn't that she was coming onto him like Carol always seemed to be doing. They were nothing more than friends, just like he and Carol were. Calling him and Kali "friends" was even stretching it a bit. They were two people that worked together as a team to get shit done. He was just glad that she wasn't always trying to hit on him or push him to talk about shit like Carol did.

What he hated more than ANYTHING though was the fact that Kali never expected anything from him. She was always willing to help him or any of the other members of the group and she always offered him things that she'd found during their supply runs. But she never asked for anything in return, not even food or protection. She could fend for herself, unlike the other women of the group, and she was just as capable of surviving on her own as Daryl was. Yet she stuck with the group because she thought it was the right thing to do, which was just another thing they had in common. Like Daryl, she tended to steer clear from the group as much as she could. She kept her distance from the group, both socially AND physically. She set her camp up far away from the rest of the group, separating them with physical distance as well as setting up the boundaries emotionally inside of herself. It was something that he'd taken to doing after the group had set up camp there at Hershel's farm too. The thing that surprised Daryl the most was the fact that Kali even kept her distance from HIM, unless they were assigned to go out hunting together or to go on a supply run for the group.

He always knew where to find her if he needed to though. If she wasn't in the small tent Shane had let her use, she was in Hershel's stable, fawning over the horses. Apparently she was quite the animal lover, which had proven to be interesting on the few occasions Rick had asked her to tag along with Daryl when he went out hunting.

While she had great aim with a gun and she was just as good in close-combat with a knife, she just didn't seem to have the heart to bring the animals down herself. She never hesitated to point them out and she could deal with them after they were dead. But she didn't like to kill them and she SURE as hell hated to see them suffering or in pain. Hell she choked up when she heard a deer or a rabbit bleating in pain and turned her back while Daryl finished the job. If it was a walker, she wouldn't have any problem taking it down. If it was someone that planned on harming her or another member of the group, she wouldn't hesitate. But if it was an animal, she couldn't bear to do it unless her life was in danger or she was starving.

"You gonna finish that, Dixon?" Kalina teased as she pushed herself back from the table, gesturing to the half-empty plate in front of him, "Hell you ALWAYS finish a meal before me. If ya don't like it, you can dump it down the disposal. Ya won't hurt my feelings any."

That was another good thing about her. She wasn't quick to take offense, like most of the other women in the group. She was the kind that you could be brutally honest with and she'd just take it in stride. If you liked her, fine. She'd be helpful and polite. But if you didn't, she didn't care. It didn't make any difference to her and she didn't make a big fuss about it either. No matter the situation, he'd come to learn that she always appreciated the truth over any lie, even if it might hurt her feelings or piss her off. She could always deal with the truth better. It was the realist in her.

She was always brutally honest with him too, and he'd come to expect it. She'd tell him what she thought, whether she thought he'd like what she had to say or not. She didn't censor it or sugarcoat it either. She just told it like it was, which he appreciated, for the most part. It was when she WASN'T honest with him that he grew suspicious.

"Nah. Food's all right," he told her, "Just thinkin' 's all."

She nodded to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it the briefest of squeezes before she took her empty plate and her fork over to rinse it off in the sink.

She wasn't like Carol. She didn't try to flirt with him or press kisses to his face. She didn't crowd him or push him. Hell she wasn't really one for touching other people and she didn't really like to be touched either, which was yet ANOTHER thing they had in common. But the small gesture she'd just dealt him was easy to understand. She'd never ask him what was bothering him unless she thought it was a huge problem and that it needed to be addressed. Instead, she left him to deal with his own shit unless she thought he was really struggling and needed some help. The slight squeeze on his shoulder had been an "I understand. I'm here if you wanna talk." gesture.

"Well, I'm gonna go take a bath," she announced before heading out of the kitchen.

He shook his head at himself and returned his attention to his food. It didn't take long to make it pull the disappearing act and he rinsed his plate and fork off before grabbing his pack and heading up the stairs. She must've already grabbed her own when she'd headed up because it wasn't where she'd left it beside her chair earlier.

He made his way into the bedroom closest to the bathroom and set his pack down in front of the foot of the bed. He heard the water running in the bathroom for a while before she turned it off. He heard her give a moan of approval as he kicked his boots off and climbed up onto the bed, lying back with his crossbow beside him.

He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, his arms crossed underneath his head, his big hands cradling the back of his head. He'd let her sleep first while he took watch. He knew that it would lead to a little argument, that she'd insist that he slept first. She always did. And she made an art out of surviving without much sleep. It was nothing for her to get by on 5 or 6 hours of sleep. She could manage on even less when it was required of her too. Like Daryl, she was a restless sleeper and she didn't sleep nearly as long as the others of the group did.

Daryl found his mind wandering. He wondered if Merle had gotten himself into any trouble during his absence. He wouldn't be a bit surprised if he had. Merle didn't really "play well with others", as Rick put it. Unlike Daryl, Merle tended to be bold and shameless. He'd flirt with the women like it was some kind of professional sport and the rest of the men were his opponents. He'd make crude comments to the women in hopes of "charming the pants right off of them". But it never got him anywhere. Hell NONE of the women in that group were even REMOTELY interested in Merle. But that didn't stop him.

Merle had an even shorter fuse than Daryl did too. Shit he'd jump into a fight over anything, over nothing at all. "Conduct disorder" was what he'd told Daryl the psychologist at one of the juvenile detention centers he'd been held in had called it. While he didn't know what conduct disorder was, Daryl knew there was SOMETHING wrong with his big brother. But it was to be expected, considering their fucked up childhood, their rough upbringing. Daryl didn't want to know what the damn shrinks would try to diagnose HIM with. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. He knew that much.

Merle had quite a few issues that got him into trouble with the group though. For one thing, he was WAY too simple-minded. For another, he never knew when to keep that big mouth of his shut. He wasn't real big on helping others either, a quality that people in any group had to have in order to fit into any group. He was irrational and unpredictable, two traits that made the rest of the group VERY uneasy when they were in his presence.

He just hoped that he wouldn't come back to the farm to find that Merle had gone and gotten himself kicked out of the group.

–_**=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–**_

Daryl was surprised by how long Kalina spent in the damn tub. Hell she'd been in there for damn near an hour!

"Daryl?" she asked, when she finally came out of the bathroom.

"In here!" he called to her.

She walked through the doorway of the bedroom he'd chosen for them to use for the night with a grin stretching from one ear to the other. Her long, naturally wavy, jet-black hair was almost curly after her bath, falling down her back and over her shoulders in wild waves. Water dripped from the wet ends of her hair and onto the plain, black cami she'd changed into. She'd pulled on a pair of tight-fitting, black, stretchy, cotton shorts that came to stop just above her knees to go with it and her tiny feet were bare.

"Well… I'm good and prunified," she announced, "That was a DAMN good soak. You oughta try one every once in a while, Dixon."

"Ya never take a shower for that fuckin' long," he pointed out.

"Showers are different, Daryl," she insisted, "I can be out of a shower in 20 minutes or less. My fasted recorded shower was 5 minutes I think. But NOTHING beats a long soak in a hot bath. It relaxes all your muscles and clears your mind."

"Thanks Dr. Phil," he razzed as he pushed himself off the bed and started over for his pack, "Now that you're out, I can FINALLY take a fuckin' shower."

She rolled her eyes but went over to set her pack next to the spot where he had his. He picked his up and they stood up at the same time, their faces just inches apart. Their eyes grew real wide and she was quick to step back even as he did the same.

"Well…! I'm WIDE awake after that bath," she commented, "So I'll take first watch."

"No ya won't," he argued as she started over to the bay window there in the bedroom, "Ya can sleep there on the bed and I'll keep watch first just as soon as I get done with my shower."

She sighed. Apparently she'd known this was coming too.

"Daryl –," she started.

"No," he interrupted her, gesturing to the bed, "I'm takin' the first watch. And I'm not gonna fuckin' argue around about it either."

She cut him a little glare but went over to take a seat on the ledge next to the bay window there in the bedroom.

He nodded, letting her know that he approved of her compliance, and headed out of the room.

He took a little longer than he'd intended to in the shower. He'd been quick to wash up but he'd enjoyed the steady, hot spray so damn much he'd decided to repeat the process and just stand under the water for a bit, letting the water cascade down over his aching muscles. Kalina was right. It WAS a damn good feeling.

When he'd finished with his shower, he headed back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it, just in case any damn walkers came shuffling into the house in the middle of the night. Granted, a locked door wouldn't stop them, but at least they wouldn't be able to turn the knob and shuffle right on in. They'd have to tear the door down first. So it would slow them down a bit, at the very least.

He went over to set his pack down in front of the foot of the bed and looked over to where Kali sat perched at the window, gazing out at the property the house was sitting on as the moonlight flooded down on it.

He cleared his throat and she looked over at him. He gestured to the bed with a wave of his hand and she sighed but hung her head and pushed herself off the ledge by the window, starting over towards the bed. She'd come to learn that she had to pick her battles when it came to him, and she'd been smart to do so quickly.

When they'd first started getting assigned to go out on supply runs together 4 months ago, she'd fought him on EVERYTHING. And she was just as fucking stubborn as he was. But, eventually, she'd learned to just pick her battles because neither of them would ever back down and it just led to really long, awkward glaring contests until one of them finally caved. He'd been quick to learn that she wouldn't back down for ANYTHING if she felt strongly about something though, whether she was for it or against it. He couldn't win those battles. She knew how to get under his skin though and Daryl HATED that. While she didn't talk as much as the other women of the group did, she could still give him the silent treatment and he hated THAT too. He could handle silence for long periods of time but not when he knew that she was pissed at him. While she wasn't much of a talker, there was a difference between her naturally quiet attitude and the pissed off presence he felt during her silent treatments.

Kali made her way over to her bag and reached down to pull something out of it. She tossed it across the room to him and he caught it against his chest. He looked down at it, smirking when he discovered that it was a pack of cigarettes – a FULL pack of cigarettes. And they were Marlboro Reds… his favorite.

"You're welcome," she mumbled before tugging the covers on the bed back and inspecting it.

Once she decided that it was all right, she slid under the covers and pulled them up over herself. She was one of those "under the covers" girls as she called herself. She just couldn't sleep without covers, even if it was 100 degrees and it was just a thin sheet. He thought it probably had something to do with the fact that she snuggled up to the blankets, that she pulled them clear up to her chin and curled up into a ball, tucking her legs up and her face down.

It didn't take her long to fall asleep and he climbed up onto the seat at the bay window, peering out into the moonlight as he tapped the pack of smokes against the palm of his hand. He ripped it open and popped the top up to pull one out with his lips, fishing into his bag for the Zippo lighter he always carried with him. It wasn't often that they got cigarettes so he was going to enjoy these nicotine sticks by damn. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, slowly blowing the smoke out as his eyes roamed over the property the farmhouse sat on.

–_**=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–**_

Daryl heard Kalina gasp and jerked his head around to look over at her just in time to see her sit bolt upright in the bed. It was nothing new. Hell she was a fitful sleeper half of the damn time when they went out on supply runs. But he never asked about her nightmares, just like she never prodded him to tell her about it when he woke himself up because he was fussing in his sleep. He'd never known anyone to be as restless of a sleeper as he was until he'd met her. And he didn't know which of them was worse.

Kali was quick to slide from the bed instead of trying to go back to sleep, so it must've been a nightmare that had really shaken her. Sometimes she'd lay back down and try to go back to sleep. Other times, she insisted on switching with him so that she could take watch and he could sleep. He never asked her about the nightmares because they were her own personal demons, just like she never asked him about his own. She respected his privacy and he respected hers. But it was a little habit they'd gotten into, switching watch when one or the other of them had had a particularly unnerving nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep. They figured, if they couldn't sleep, at least the other person could try to catch some sleep.

"I'll take watch," she informed him, starting over towards the window, "You need to get some sleep."

Rather than argue with her, he just nodded and headed over for the bed, letting her take his post at the window.

He flopped onto the bed, not bothering with the covers. He saw her reach up to rub at her arms as she looked out the window, working her hands up and down the length of her bare arms. She rubbed at them furiously, almost as if she was scrubbing at them. She reached a shaky hand up to brush a stray strand of her raven-colored hair out of her face as she gazed out the window. Those dark eyes held that distant expression, that vacant stare, as she looked out into the night. She was clearly in a different time, a different place. He rolled over to face the wall, giving her some privacy. Hell she'd offered him the same courtesy more times than he could count so he'd leave her to her thoughts. She was having a personal moment, clearly lost in thought about whatever it was that had haunted her dreams. He wouldn't intrude.

Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep.

_**~***__**Kalina**__***~**_

Kalina Avery rubbed her hands up and down over her arms, unconsciously trying to scrub herself clean. She shook her head hard, trying to shake the vivid images of her nightmare from her head. It didn't matter that the fucker was probably dead somewhere, a rotting corpse. Despite all the pain he loved to dish out, she KNEW that there was no way in HELL he would've made it through this.

Yet, despite the years of not having dealt with him, he still plagued her dreams, still haunted her in both her unconscious thoughts as well as her subconscious mind when she was awake. She just couldn't seem to escape him. She was glad that Daryl wasn't the kind to press her for information. She wouldn't have told him, even if he would've tried to pull the information out of her anyway. Some secrets were far too deep and dark to share. But she knew that Daryl understood. He seemed to be pretty haunted himself, fussing in his sleep, mumbling shit sometimes when he didn't think she could hear it, keeping to himself when they were in the presence of the rest of the group. She'd seen all the signs, just like he'd seen all of hers. But he didn't press her for information and she let him have his privacy in return. There was a mutual respect between the two of them and she was grateful for that.

She gazed out the window, her chocolate colored eyes raking over the tall grass that blew lightly in the late night breeze. All was calm, not a danger in sight. She rested the side of her head against the cold glass and tried to calm her thoughts, tried to regulate the rhythm of her heartbeat. It was always like this. Seeing him, even in her dreams, always seemed to spark the same fear and anxiousness inside of her, made it swell up and threaten to consume her. Even after years without having to deal with him, having to see him, he could still strike terror into her. He could always shake her clear down to her core. She wished desperately that she could just forget that it had ever happened, but she knew that it was pointless. She'd never forget, no matter how long she lived. Some memories just never died, especially the traumatic ones.

She felt something wet sliding down her cheek and reached up to wipe at it, sighing and rolling her eyes at herself as she realized that she was crying. She was quick to wipe at her eyes and steal a peek over at Daryl.

Good. He still had his back to her. He hadn't seen her. There was only ONE thing she hated more than someone seeing her cry and that was throwing up. Crying always made her feel weak, vulnerable, hopeless. She had to either be in extreme physical pain or be very emotionally distraught to cry. She'd learned at a VERY early age that it never did her any good to cry. It was just a waste of time and a waste of tears. The world wasn't going to stop and wait for her to recompose herself, so she just had to suck it up and deal with it, whatever "it" might be.

She stole another glance over at Daryl and heard him snoring lightly. He'd always been good about giving her some privacy when she needed it, giving her space when she needed time to herself or time to cool down. There was no one else she'd rather be assigned to go on supply runs with. And it wasn't even like she had feelings for Daryl, nothing more than the partnership that they shared when they were out on a run together at least. He just knew her better than any of the others did. He understood her and they were able to communicate without even having to say a word. They worked well as a two-man team, capable of completing whatever task was assigned to them quickly and efficiently. They never failed to deliver, even if they had to improvise. But more than that, Daryl RESPECTED her.

Kalina wasn't stupid. She'd seen the way the other men in the group looked at her. Hell both Merle AND Shane looked at her like women looked at Ghirardelli's chocolates when they were on their period, like they had a craving and it wouldn't go away until they got a taste. They hadn't been shy about their advances either. Even T-Dog flirted with her. Dale was more of a father figure than anything and she avoided Hershel unless she really had to deal with him, due to the fact that he wasn't overly pleased by Rick's group being there on his farmland. Glenn was after Maggie like flies on shit and there was no denying it. And Rick was always too damn busy, worrying about an ever-bitching Lori and a constantly-disappearing Carl to worry about anything else.

Of course, Kali didn't miss the way that Carol watched her every move, especially when she was around Daryl. Lori was the same way when Rick came to talk to her or ask her for a favor. Lori was ALWAYS scrutinizing Kali and Carol seemed to think that she was just going to swoop right in and steal Daryl away from her. In all due reality, Kali would NEVER be interested in Rick – he just wasn't her type – and Carol had never had Daryl to begin with. And she found Andrea glaring or scowling at her every time she turned around, partly due to the fact that Dale had come to favor Kali over the Andrea – who had always been his favorite before Kali had come along – and partly because of the fact that Kali had unfortunately managed to catch Shane's attention somehow. She knew that Andrea's hatred was spurred by the fact that the men in the group were very interested in her. But she wasn't interested in any of them.

So it was no fucking wonder why she kept to herself, why she avoided everyone else. It also explained why she preferred to spend her time with Hershel's horses. Animals were a HELL of a lot easier to trust than humans. Even walkers were easier to trust than humans. You KNEW that a walker was going to try to eat you, regardless of how mangled and gnawed on they were or whether or not they had known you before they'd died and become one of those shuffling creeps. They had one thing and one thing ONLY on their mind: to feed on anything, living or dead. Humans just acted nice and waited until the right moment, when you least expected it, before they stabbed you in the back or tried to use you to their advantage. Kali wasn't stupid. She'd figured all this out after enough experiences in which people she'd THOUGHT were people she could trust had turned on her. Animals loved you unconditionally. They'd be faithful and helpful companions until they died.

Kali had learned to read people, starting from the age of a young girl and getting better and better with time. She could read anyone, even Daryl Dixon, and she knew that he HATED that. No one else could read him. But she could. It was easy for her to read a person. They gave so much away, even if they were trying to hide their emotions. Their body language spoke volumes about their intentions. Their facial expressions conveyed their feelings. But NOTHING gave a person away more than their eyes. That old expression "The eyes are the portal to a person's soul" was very true. A person could lie through their speech, their body language, sometimes even their facial expressions. But their eyes NEVER lied. If you really wanted to get an accurate reading from a person, you looked into their eyes and searched there to see what they were thinking, what they were feeling.

Over the years, Kali had come to build walls up around her heart and her mind, walls so high, so thick, that no one could penetrate them. She never let those walls down for ANYONE. Not anymore. They'd only hurt her in the end, just like all the others before them. It was better to never get attached to someone and not get hurt than to let yourself form bonds and attachments to people and get hurt time and time again. During her childhood, she'd slipped in and out of this "numb" phase, in which her emotions had pretty much just shut down and she'd run on auto-pilot. She hadn't felt ANYTHING, not happiness or sorrow, not pain or anger, not even excitement. And it was safest for her mental state when she slipped into her numb phases. She'd been pretty much numb throughout her high school years until she'd managed to escape the hell that was her life and head off to college. After that, there had been the work force. But the people were all the same. They were only out for themselves and they didn't give a shit about her. She'd just been biding her time, trying to make a decent living for herself. Until she'd found HIM.

There had been ONE man, ONE person, that she'd let through those walls. And she'd regretted it ever since. Well… She couldn't really say that. She hadn't regretted the time she'd spent with him, the life they'd built together. She hadn't regretted the love he'd showered on her or the deep, intense love she'd felt for him in return. Tariq had been her heart, her soul, her EVERYTHING, despite how cliché it sounded. And he'd been taken from her, just like the few other good things she'd been granted in life. She'd NEVER forget his selflessness, even in the moments of his death, as he'd tried to barricade the door with his body as the walkers threw themselves against it. She'd NEVER forget him shouting and waving for her to run, to go, to get as far away from there as possible. She'd NEVER forget watching with horror and tears pouring down her cheeks as the zombies had made their way into the room and ripped him limb from limb. He'd rasped two words while gazing into her eyes as he drew his last breaths: "Love… you…".

Kalina gave a little sniff and reached up to wipe at her eyes again. She had to change the course of her thoughts or she'd slip into that dark place again. That was 4 months ago, the same day Daryl had found her fighting her way through a swarm of walkers.

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand though, her eyes roving over the property the farmhouse they were staying in was built on. She couldn't slack off on the job when their lives could be at stake.

_**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**_

Kalina woke with a start as she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. She gasped and her chocolate colored eyes snapped wide open as she jerked away from the touch, quickly reaching for her knife at the sheath on her belt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! EASY now," she heard a familiar voice caution.

She gave a sigh of relief and eased her hand away from the sheath as she realized that it was just Daryl. But if it was Daryl that had woken her… that meant that she'd fallen asleep on watch.

"Fuck!" she cursed, "Damn it, I'm sorry. The last thing I remember was starin' out at the fuckin' grass…"

Her eyes roamed over the tall grass again, finding that the sun was shining down on it now. The sun wasn't too far up yet though so it was still early morning, probably 7:00 or so.

Instead of scolding her like she'd expected though, Daryl just headed over to grab his pack and slung it over his shoulder, his trusty crossbow hanging off the other one.

"Right," she said, "We should go. The sooner we get movin', the more houses we can search."

Kali felt Daryl's eyes on her as she made her way over to pick up her pack. She felt his eyes on her as he followed her down the stairs after she made a quick pit stop and he'd taken his turn in the bathroom after she'd finished. She felt his eyes on her clear out to the damn truck. But she tried to ignore it, setting her pack on the floorboard there in the passenger side of the truck before climbing on up into the truck. He set his crossbow and his bag against the back of the driver's seat to ensure that they wouldn't get jostled before making his way to the driver's side door and tugging it open. She closed the door behind her and stared out the window as he fished the keys out of his jeans' pocket and slid in behind the wheel. He fired the truck up and she tried to ignore the glances he kept stealing over at her after he pulled out onto the main road.

But ignoring him proved to be damn near impossible when she could practically FEEL his eyes boring into her.

She gently lifted Daryl's arm to get him to move it off of the console between them, feeling him jerk it away from her. He didn't like to be touched, but she could understand that. She didn't either.

She muttered a quick, "Sorry" before reaching out to fumble with the clasp on the console. She popped it open and took a peek inside, grinning to herself as she found the previous owner's stash of CDs.

"All right, let's see who owned ya before Dixon got his hands on ya," she commented, more to herself than Daryl as she unzipped the CD holder and started flipping through it.

A huge grin stretched clear across her face as she discovered that there was quite a nice selection of CDs to choose from. Whoever had owned this truck before them was a godsend in her book. There were Marilyn Manson CDs, Avenged Sevenfold CDs, The Cult CDs, Combichrist CDs, Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, and AC/DC CDs. There were metal, hard rock, rock, and classic rock CDs of all kinds. Hell the CD holder was nearly full!

"Ha HA! Fuckin'JACKPOT, baby!" Kali cried gleefully, snagging a CD out and turning the stereo of the truck on, sliding the CD in and pressing play.

She flipped through the songs on the CD until she found the one she wanted and grinned from ear to ear, zipping the CD holder up and gently easing it back into the console. Daryl's arm was quick to resume its place on the console between them and she gazed out the window as a familiar song started to play.

She rarely ever sang in front of anyone, usually preferring to just hum along if she knew a song, but she chose to sing today. She knew that Daryl was stealing glances at her and her nerves were already worn a little thin, thanks to last night and that morning.

_This'll hurt you worse than me._  
_I'm weak, seven days a week._  
_Don't run from me. I won't_  
_Bother counting one, two, three..._

_I don't know which me that I love._  
_Got no reflection._  
_I don't know which me that I love._  
_Got no reflection._

_Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh_

_Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh_

_Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh_

_This'll hurt you worse than me.  
I'm weak, seven days a week.  
Don't run from me. I won't  
Bother counting one, two, three..._

_I don't know which me that I love._  
_Got no reflection._  
_I don't know which me that I love._  
_Got no reflection._

"The fuck kinda music you listen to?" Daryl questioned when the song ended.

Kali shrugged her shoulders and stated, "Whatever catches my interest. I never was one to walk the beaten path though. I was never a follower. I did my own thing. So, I tend to like shit that not too many other people do."

She heard another familiar song come on and she grinned from ear to ear.

"I think this one is PERFECT for our current situation," she pointed out, "It's called Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon. And we just so HAPPENto be in the middle of the fucking zombie apocalypse."

She smirked over at him and waggled her dark brows before bopping her head along to the beat of the song and starting to sing along.

_Death to ladies first, then the gentlemen_  
_All sorts of tax-free facelifts, abortion, nervous breakdance_  
_Satanic girls gone wild, truly fucking suicidal_

_First you try to fuck it, then you try to eat it_  
_If it hasn't learned your name, you better kill it before they see it_  
_First you try to fuck it, then you try to eat it_  
_If it hasn't learned your name, you better kill it before they see it_

_It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_  
_(Fuck, eat, kill, now do it again)_  
_It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_  
_(Fuck, eat, kill, et cetera)_

_On the news, or is it the noose_

_They say results may vary_  
_Side effects all vary_  
_Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_

_Fuck the goddamned TV and the radio_  
_And fuck making hits, I'm taking credit for the death toll_  
_It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_

_It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_

_It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_

"You've got a twisted fuckin' sense of humor, ya know that?" she heard Daryl ask her.

She just shrugged her shoulders and replied, "So sue me. At this point, money won't getcha anywhere though."

He chuckled at that.

It was true though. Money wouldn't get a person anywhere now. The government sure as hell wouldn't have to worry about the damn economy now. There WAS no fucking economy! And there was no government either. It was every man for himself, or every GROUP of men for themselves.

"Well I could play somethin' else," Kali offered, "But it's all rock, hard rock, classic rock, or metal, Dixon. So pick your poison."

She giggled at that and he stole a glance over at her, his brows wrinkling in confusion.

"Don't you get it?" she asked him, her own raven-colored brows wrinkling now, "You know… Poison? As in the classic rock band from the 80s?"

He just blinked and she gasped.

"Oh… my… GOD! Seriously? You've never heard of them?" she questioned in disbelief, her eyes growing real wide.

He just looked ahead at the road again and she asked, "So what DID you listen to before the world went to shit?"

Daryl shrugged his broad shoulders and answered, "Lynard Skynard, Tim McGraw, George Jones, Hank Williams Jr., Alabama, stuff like that."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. He was your "typical hick" then in that respect. But he wasn't your "typical hick" in most respects. People falsely labeled him ALL the damn time. Daryl might've been a redneck but that didn't mean he was stupid.

"What's so fuckin' funny?" he practically growled as she shook her head a little and laughed.

"Nothin'," Kali answered with a little smile, glancing out the window again, "Just figured somethin' else out about ya I guess."

"Like what?" he pressed.

"Oh… Like you're an old country and southern rock junkie," she teased lightly, smiling and laughing to let him know that she was just teasing with him.

He gave her little glare but she could see from the amusement shining in those crystal blue orbs that he was just teasing too.

"Yeah and you're a metal head," he razzed right back.

She gave a bright smile at that and gazed out the windshield ahead of them.

_**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**_

Kalina had one more room to check downstairs in the house that they were currently checking out. She pushed the door open and her chest tightened. She swallowed the big lump in her throat even as she felt the backs of her eyes sting as tears filled them. She choked on a sob as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth.

There, lying on the bed, was a large, black, shaggy looking dog, its head resting on the lap of its dead owner. The owner had decided to take "the easy way out". They'd decided to "opt out" like Dr. Jenner had called it, his brains, blood, and parts of his skull painting the wall above the headboard in a gruesome design.

The dog lifted its head to look at her when she took a step into the room but didn't move from its spot. Its dark brown eyes, almost completely covered by its long, bushy eyebrows, held a blank stare as they gazed at her. She knew that expression. The poor dog was emotionally numb, like she'd been so many times in her 23 years of life.

She moved over to the nightstand, finding that there was a note laying on it. Her eyes skimmed over the page, finding a messily scrawled message:

_To Whoever Finds This:_

_I just can't stand to live in a world that's so cruel and heartless. I don't want to live in a world where there's no more humanity. The cancer took my wife and the zombies took my daughter. All I have left here is Beau and he'll understand. He's a good pup. He's just a year old and he's still got a lot of life left in him. He'll make a faithful and loving companion. Please, take care of him like he deserves to be taken care of._

_Larry_

Kali choked on another sob as she looked over at the dog. Beau. His name was Beau, just like the puppy Tariq had gotten her 2 years after they'd started dating. Was this a second chance? A chance to do it over? The Beau she'd loved had gotten hit by a car and it had DEVESTATED her.

Yet there lied this dog, even after its owner's death. It had still refused to leave his side. He was faithful alright, just like Larry had written in his suicide note.

She wondered how long ago Larry had died. Judging by the looks of the blood on the wall, it hadn't been that long ago, maybe 2 or 3 days.

She looked at the dog and it looked at her. And that was when she knew what she had to do.

"Beau… he's dead, sweetie. He's not comin' back," she said, slowly approaching the dog, "But that doesn't mean that you hafta die too. I know you don't understand the words I'm sayin', but, if you come with me, I can take good care of you, just like he wanted. I can make sure you have food and that you're safe and warm and dry. I can take you back to a place where there are LOTS of people for you to play with. You'll get LOTS of attention and affection."

The dog just blinked and her heart broke for him. She knew that blank stare, that emotionless state. She knew what it was like to feel hollow.

"How about food? I bet you haven't eaten in a while," she suggested, "Let me see if I have anything to give you."

She was quick to sling her pack off her shoulder and set it on the foot of the bed, rummaging through it until she found a couple pieces of beef jerky that Daryl had given her that morning, all that was left of the pack of jerky they'd found. She didn't care if she ate later. This poor animal needed it MUCH worse than she did.

She took a piece out of the package and held it out to the dog, offering it the strip of jerky. Its head tipped back and it sniffed at the air before leaning a little closer to sniff at the jerky.

"It's okay," she crooned softly, "You can eat it, Beau."

She held her hand out even closer to the dog and it leaned forward to gently ease the strip of jerky out of her fingers, being careful of its teeth. It bolted the strip of jerky down and she knew then that the dog had to be hungry. So she took the other strip of jerky out of the package and held it out in a silent offering.

Just as he was finishing the second strip of jerky, she heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall, towards the room she was in.

"Ya find anythin' –," he started to ask before cutting himself off and cursing, "Shit…"

Kalina turned her head to look at him with tears filling her chocolate colored eyes.

Her gaze met his crystal blue one and she opened her mouth to say, "Daryl –,"

But he was quick to cut her off, shaking his head hard and stating, "No."

"But, Daryl –," she started.

"NO," he interrupted her again, his tone firmer this time, "We can't go takin' strays in."

"But, Daryl, LOOK at him!" she cried at the injustice, gesturing to the dog's start of starvation.

"I see him just fine," Daryl pointed out, "We can't go takin' a damn dog in. How the fuck ya think we're gonna take care of it? Hell we can barely find food for the group as it is!"

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. Of course he wouldn't understand what this meant to her, what the significance of this moment was. He didn't know what she'd lost, what finding this dog represented.

"You might not care if he dies but I do. I can't just let him stay here and wither away. I can't stand to walk out of this house and know that an innocent dog died because I didn't do anything to help him. You don't hafta do a DAMN thing, Dixon. I'll take care of him myself," she informed him, her voice cracking every so often.

"Kalina –," he tried to argue.

"Daryl, PLEASE!" she begged, looking up at him with what she knew was the same heartbroken expression she'd had when she'd first spotted the dog on the bed, "If I don't take him in, NO one will. Can't you see that he's been layin' here for days? He hasn't left his owner's side even after the man blew his brains out. I can't… I just can't walk away and know that he's suffering…"

She'd already lost her Beau. She hadn't known he'd escaped from the fenced in backyard and gotten out onto the road… And when she'd gotten the call and drove out to the spot one of her neighbors had told her they thought the dog was running along the road… She'd found him... But he wasn't running anymore… He'd never be able to run again… She'd been at home when he'd gotten hit and was suffering… She sat there on the old country road with the dog's head on her lap while she waited for the vet to get there, begging and pleading with her furry companion to just hold on, to just hang in there until the vet managed to make it… But, by the time the vet had come out to check him out, there was nothing he could do for poor Beau…

She looked down at her lap and sniffled as she reached up to wipe at her eyes with one hand. And now, now that she had a chance to save THIS Beau… Now Daryl was telling her no.

She heard Daryl give a loud sigh and knew that he'd walk out of the house before he'd let her keep the dog. She buried her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her thighs, and started to cry. There was just no winning with Daryl when he'd made his mind up about something.

Then the most surprising thing happened. The dog got up from its spot beside its dead owner and slowly approached her. She felt its cold, wet nose against her arm just before it nudged at her lightly. It never made a sound, just nudged at her arm with its nose. She turned to the side just slightly and reached out, cradling the dog's face in her hands as she leaned in to rest her own forehead against the dog's.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured quietly, just barely above a whisper, her heart breaking into a million pieces even as her voice cracked and broke, "I tried."

–=_**Daryl**__**=–**_

Daryl swallowed hard as he watched Kalina cry, resting her forehead against the dog's. The mutt had gotten up from its spot beside its dead owner, something Daryl hadn't expected it to do. It had sensed Kali's distress and had gone over to sit beside her and nudge at her with its big nose. It let her just cradle its big face as she cried.

But it wasn't necessarily the dog's interaction with Kali that got to him. Daryl had NEVER seen her cry in the whole 4 months he'd known her. Sure, he'd seen her a bit rattled after a nightmare a few times. He'd seen her down in the dumps a couple times. But he'd never seen her like THIS.

He walked over to the foot of the bed and picked up the note the owner had left before blowing his damn brains all over the wall, reading it over. When he finished it, he glanced over at Kali and the dog again. The dog was sitting beside Kali, completely silent, nudging at her with its nose. It CLEARLY didn't like her being upset.

He'd had a dog once as a kid, some terrier mix mutt, just a stray his mom had let him keep. It had always snuggled up to him after his old man had torn into him, offering him what comfort and sympathy it could. It had snarled and snapped at his old man any time he'd tried to lay into him. Daryl had loved that little dog. Then his dad had taken it out somewhere one night and dumped it, snarling that they "didn't have the money to keep feedin' no damn dog". Daryl wasn't stupid. He knew that his old man had gotten rid of the dog because it had stood up for him, something only his mom had done, up until she'd died. Then the dog had had to go too, leaving Daryl with no source of comfort.

Had Kali had a dog at as a little girl? Had she had a dog to snuggle up with when it stormed? Had she had a dog to lick at her fingers when she was sad? Had she had a dog to make her laugh and smile when she wanted to cry? EVERY kid deserved to have a dog. And, while Kali seemed like she was a very mature woman, she was definitely a kid at heart at times too.

Daryl took one last look at Kali and the dog, finding that the dog was now licking at her cheek and she was giggling. He made his decision.

"All right," he said, "You can keep him. But YOU'RE gonna be the one to fuckin' take care of him."

Kali's head snapped up and jerked around to look at him, her chocolate colored eyes so wide and her mouth hanging open.

"Are you serious?" she whispered, clearly not believing him for even a second, "I can keep him?"

He nodded his head and replied, "'S what I said."

She narrowed those eyes at him and snarled, "Don't you play games with me, Dixon."

"I'm not playin' games," he retorted, "Now get your pack and get the dog and let's fuckin' go. We've got more houses to check."

The most brilliant smile he'd ever seen stretched across her face. Hell her whole damn face lit up, her eyes shining and the tiny dimples beside her mouth showing.

She was quick to climb off the bed and rush over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight.

"Oh THANK you!" Kali cried, "I can't tell you how much this means to me, Daryl."

He grunted in surprise, not having expected such a huge gesture of thanks. She wasn't the kind that touched people to comfort them and she wasn't the kind that liked to BE touched either. What he REALLY hated was the way her large, full breasts pressed up against him as she hugged him. They were soft and well-rounded. He'd heard Merle and Shane comment about them at least 100 times since he'd brought her back to the group 4 months ago. But he didn't want to think about her like that. Daryl wasn't like the other guys. Sure, he was a guy, but he didn't look at women as just… playthings. She was his teammate. And he couldn't go thinking about fucking her.

He felt something fluttering in his stomach and knew that he had to get the fuck away from her. And fast! He swallowed hard and reached out to gently push her away.

"Don't fuckin' mention it," he told her as she stepped back and he put a little bit more distance between the two of them, "Like EVER."

She giggled at that and turned around to grab her pack.

"Come on, Beau. Let's go, baby. Let's BLOW this popsicle stand," she said to the dog, patting her thigh for him to follow her as she looked back at him.

The dog took one last look at Larry's lifeless form and hopped off the bed, trotting over to Kali and nudging at the back of her thigh with his nose.

At that point, even Daryl felt bad for the poor mutt. It was huge, probably around 2 1/2 feet tall at the shoulders, and it was covered in shaggy, black fur. But even all that fur couldn't hide the fact that it was bordering on emaciated. He didn't know how long the dog would live or if it would even stick around after they left the house but he knew that he'd made the right decision when he saw the huge grin stretch across Kali's face. He'd never seen her smile like he'd seen her smile today, in the past 5 minutes alone.

–_**=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–=–**_

Later that night, Daryl was sitting in front of the fire he'd made, his back resting against the log behind him. He stole a glance over at Kalina to find her chattering away to the big, black mutt. She scratched behind his ears as he sat between her legs in front of the log she was sitting on, his back facing her.

"Well… I think it's time that we fix some dinner, don't you, Beau?" she asked.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle at that. Hell she was usually quiet when she was around the group members, and she was usually pretty quiet when she went on supply runs with Daryl too. But she just chattered away to that damn dog. She talked to it just like it was a human and it understood her. It was actually kind of comical. But the dog must've taken a liking to her because it had followed her into every damn house they'd searched that day, ears perked up and that stump of a tail wagging. He REFUSED to be left in the truck, pitching a regular bitch fit if Daryl tried to get Kali to leave him out in the truck.

The dog tipped its head back to look up at her and gave her a doggy grin, making Daryl chuckle some more.

"How about we give Daryl what we managed to find this afternoon, huh? You think he'd like that?" she questioned, looking down at the dog.

Beau just panted and she grinned.

"All right. We'll give him the ravioli then," she stated, reaching for her pack and opening it up.

Daryl gave a little sigh and shook his head, tossing a stick he'd found on the ground beside him into the fire. She'd managed to sneak some food into her pack for him yet AGAIN. And she'd just so HAPPENED to remember that he really liked ravioli. Hell he'd practically grown up on that stuff. Between that, spaghetti O's, and ham sandwiches. When a kid had to look out for themselves, they were quick to learn what shit was easy to fix so that they wouldn't have to go hungry.

"Shut up, Dixon," she told him, her voice holding a little teasing tone, "Beau and I aren't gonna share our hash so you're just gonna hafta deal with ravioli. Besides, Beau can't eat ravioli."

He couldn't fight the little smile that curled at his lips. She'd managed to not only find his favorite canned food but hers too. She tossed the can of ravioli over to him and he caught it easily, slipping his knife from the sheath at his belt to open the can.

"Fork," she offered, holding it out towards him.

He chuckled. She always managed to think of everything. Apparently she'd thought enough to pack some silverware too.

She was quick to open her own can and she pitched the lid off into the woods somewhere, a habit that he'd taken to as well after he'd seen her do it a couple times. He gave his a fling over his shoulder and dug his fork into the can, stabbing a piece of ravioli and bringing it up to his mouth. He didn't even bother to try to cut it. He just crammed the whole piece into his mouth. It didn't matter that it was cold either. It was ravioli and the food had been processed before it'd been put into the damn can anyway.

He heard Kalina giggling and looked over to find her watching him, a grin stretching across her face even as she laughed.

"The fuck's so funny?" he asked her, his brows wrinkling as he looked over at her after he'd finished chewing and swallowing.

"You," she replied, "I never realized you had such a big assed mouth, Dixon."

He gave a single snort of laughter, rolling those crystal blue eyes at her, and she giggled some more.

Daryl stabbed another piece of ravioli and dunked it into the sauce before lifting it up to his mouth, watching as Kali pulled a plastic bowl out of her pack and set it on the ground. She leaned over and started to scoop some hash out of the can and into the bowl for the dog to eat, using her fork and making sure that she didn't leave part of his portion in the can. She wound up giving him about half of the can and Daryl opened his mouth to say something but stopped, seeing the bright smile that curled her lips as she watched the big mutt chow down. Hell he practically INHALED it!

She scratched at his back and praised, "That's a GOOD boy, Beau. I bet you like that, dontcha?"

It didn't take the dog long to finish his food. Hell he was finished before Daryl was! When the dog had finished his food, he licked the bowl clean and Kali poured some water into the bowl for him. Then she returned her attention to her hash.

Kali had always been a slow eater. She always teased Daryl about how quickly he ate unless he was lost in thought. She said she didn't know how he could even taste his food because he made it "pull the disappearing act" so quickly that he had to have inhaled it. She joked that "men were human garbage disposals" and that "as long as there was a man or a dog around, she'd never have to worry about her leftovers". It made Daryl laugh. But it was true. She usually passed her leftovers on to him. Of course, it sure as hell didn't help when she'd take him her leftovers after the rest of the group had left and insist that he eat them. Every time he tried to ask her why she was giving them to him, she'd just answer "Well, you're my favorite", which he HATED. She never left until he took them either.

He'd noticed that she had the funny little habit of eating one food at a time if they ever had more than one food together. She ate her meat first, then her vegetables, then her fruit, and finally dessert, if they had any. Granted, food was a luxury now. So it wasn't often that they had more than one kind of food, ESPECIALLY when they went out on supply runs. They always tried to save as much of the food they found for the group as they could. Last night, her rice had been a real treat. Granted, Daryl hadn't really been a big fan of peas until she'd come along and insisted that they were good for him and that she could manage to make them taste good. She never forced him to eat what she fixed but he ate it anyway. Food was food. Her cooking was a hell of a lot better than any of the other women's in the group. And she didn't try to get him to eat foods she knew he didn't like either. That being said, he HATED pickles and mayonnaise. And peanut butter. But she didn't like mayo either and she only ate sweet pickles. She just LOVED peanut butter though. Hell she'd eat that shit straight out of the damn jar with a fucking spoon! But he knew that she'd never fix anything for him that she wouldn't at least try to eat herself.

He glanced up at her as he polished his can of ravioli off, finding her taking small bites of her hash. Beau had lapped up all the water and licked the bowl clean again and was now lying at her feet, all curled up. Kali finished her food and tossed her empty can over her shoulder.

Daryl did the same and Kali packed the bowl back into her pack, informing the dog, "We'll wash it at the next house, sweetie."

"We'd be better off sleepin' in the truck tonight," Daryl stated as he got to his feet, kicking dirt onto the fire to douse it.

Kali nodded, getting to her feet and prompting, "Come on, Beau. We'll go sleep in the back seat and let Daryl take the front seat since I know he won't want the back seat. And there's no point in arguin' with him and tellin' him that I KNOW the back seat is comfier. So we'll just take the back seat and let the stubborn ass have the cramped front seat, won't we?"

The dog perked right up, getting to his feet and trotting along behind her, gazing up at her as he wagged that stump of a tail. Daryl followed them and climbed into driver's seat, reaching back to set his crossbow beside his pack on the floorboard behind his seat. She pulled the back door of the truck open and set her bag on the floorboard on the opposite side from the one Daryl had left his bag and crossbow on. She kicked off her shoes and lied on her side on the back seat, her little 5'3" frame not taking up much room. The dog hopped right up and lied down beside her on his side. Daryl made sure all the doors were locked and the windows were rolled up before he rested back against the driver's side door, stretching his long legs out over the console and the passenger seat.

He stole a peek back at Kali and found her face buried into the dog's back, her arm draped over his shaggy-haired side. The dog looked over at Daryl and gave a sigh of contentment, making Daryl crack a smile. He knew EXACTLY what the dog was thinking. "This is the life." And, for that dog, it was. Now he had food, constant company, and a safe, warm place to sleep. That was all the dog cared about. He didn't care that he'd been fed cold corn beef hash out of the can. He didn't care that it had been a small meal. He didn't care that he was sleeping in a truck. Home was where the heart was for that dog. And it made Daryl realize that, despite the damn zombie apocalypse, life wasn't all that bad. It was a HELL of a lot better than the fucked up childhood he'd suffered through and the hard times he'd faced trying to make ends meet once he'd started moving around with Merle after high school, doing whatever odd jobs they could find to rake in a little bit of cash. The damn dog was right. This WAS the life, walkers or not. As long as he had the bare minimum necessities to survive, he'd get by.

He fell asleep with a small smile tugging at his lips.

**Lyrics from the Songs:**

_This Is the Life_ by Amy Macdonald

_No Reflection _by Marilyn Manson

_Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon_ by Marilyn Manson

**(DON'T SKIP!) Well, as always, if you managed to make it this far – I know, I know, it was a long assed chapter – then I congratulate you and thank you from the bottom of my twisted little heart. If you're even bothering to read this author's note – which most people don't and probably skipped right over the first one anyway – then I also commend you. I can't thank you ENOUGH for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read this. It means the world to me – it really does. I wish I could write more often but all I can promise is to write as often as I'm able. I'd like to take this time to remind you that I would REALLY appreciate your feedback and that I eat your messages and reviews up like candy. I don't care whether you hated the story or you loved it. Just PLEASE let me know what your thoughts were. As a writer, there's nothing more helpful and insightful than a reader telling me their thoughts about my chapters and one-shots. Honestly, I don't mind criticism, as long as it's constructive – let me know what parts you didn't like and how I can improve them. Let me know what could be expanded upon, what could be cut, what could be tweaked. I'll never be able to improve upon my writing if I don't know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. The most effective reviews are ones that let me know what my strengths AND weaknesses are – tell me what you liked, let me know what you didn't like. You can ALWAYS message me or review me with any comments, concerns, or questions you might have. Thanks again, for your time and I REALLY appreciate you taking said time to read this.**

**ALSO, I've been really thinking about doing a Skinwalkers Fanfiction about Varek's pack meeting a different one – a pack war of sorts. It's a werewolf movie – and the best one I've ever seen to be honest – and Norman Reedus is NOT in the film. I've had issues with no one wanting to read my non-Norman fictions so, I'm asking in advance this time around: Is there anyone that would actually be INTERESTED in reading it if I post it when I'm able to write it?**

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**Just a final note: I'd like to take this time to personally thank everyone that's helped me along so far.**

**To YelloFever: I love you to death, dear , and I can't thank you ENOUGH for always supporting and encouraging me. Without you pushing me, I wouldn't be to this point in my writing. And no one would be reading ANY of the stories I post on here because I never would've known about the irresistible Norman Reedus if you hadn't have provided me with the episodes from the show, which then sparked my interest in checking out as many of his other movies as I could – which haven't been many since his movies are REALLY hard to get a hold of. You're better than even the BEST friend I could've ever imagined, better than any friend I could've ever asked for. You're closer to me than my own family, dear, and I love you dearly. You were the one that read all my stories before I ever started posting. You're the only one that has access to ALL of my stories, both Fanfiction and original. You give me the most in-depth and informative reviews I've ever read. But, more than anything, you've pushed me when I wanted to give up. You've been there for me when I needed someone to turn to. And you always reminded me of how proud of me you were, how you thought I could do ANYTHING I put my mind to. I'll NEVER be able to thank you enough for that.**

**In no particular order, I'd like to thank the following faithfuls as well: MrsGooglyBear, UsefulSpirits, ILovePotatoes94, scoobydoo0811, MaddyMarie1212, and mrsreedus69.**

**To Googly: I can't thank you enough for taking the time out of your hectic, stressful schedule to send me extensive messages and keep in contact with me on a personal basis – outside of just my writing. It really means a lot to hear from you and I'd consider you a great friend.**

**To UsefulSpirits: You always make me laugh my ass off with your messages and reviews. I know you've got a very busy life and your feedback never goes unappreciated. I always look forward to hearing from you.**

**To ILovePotatoes94: Thank you for reviewing for me over the years. You were reading my stuff before I ever deleted all my old Garrett Hedlund fanfictions and started posting Norman Reedus ones. I'm glad to still have you with me.**

**To mrsreedus69: Thanks for reviewing for me and messaging me with your thoughts. It's always nice to know that someone understands how crazy life can get sometimes. You've never prodded me or gotten impatient. You just wait patiently while it takes me for-fucking-EVER to post the next chapter, whatever it may be. Patience is a hard quality to find these days, one that only people that possess the quality seem to truly appreciate it. So thank you.**

**To scoobydoo0811 and MaddyMarie1212: I'd like to thank you for reading and reviewing all my chapters and one-shots for me. You girls have been there since I first started posting Norman Reedus fanfictions and I'm still just as happy to have you with me as I was back then.**

**To jeanf: Thanks for the recent messages and I'm always glad to hear from you. It's very interesting to read your take on Merle and Daryl's relationship before the death of Merle in the show. I can assure you that this story will give you more glimpses into the brothers' relationship and how they affect each other.**

**I'd like to thank my newfound faithfuls as well: Reaper07, OnTheWildside, and BorchMadsen. Thank you, ladies, for reading and reviewing for me so faithfully.**

**To Borch: I look forward to each and every one of our message and I'm awful glad to have you as a friend. I can't thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy schedule to message me and keep in touch with me.**

**I'd like to thank my fellow psychology lover – LostOne1775. It's always great to have someone to talk to about my minor. I'm just so fascinated with anything related to the topic of psychology and not too many people seem to understand the concepts we cover as psychology students. It's always interesting to read your thoughts and opinions on my stories and characters. I always grin with glee when I see that I have a new message from you.**

**To AllMonstersRHuman: I absolutely LOVE your stories and I wish you the VERY best of luck with them, dear. I still have yet to go back and read them all over and give you in-depth reviews like those chapters properly deserve but I'll get to that over summer break – with any luck. Either way, I'll get to them just as SOON as I can. I just LOVE your Daryl and Mac stories and they've given me quite a bit of inspiration for my own stories – even if I haven't used ideas similar to yours. I'm sorry to hear about your recent misfortunes with the spineless story thieves but I hope it's all straightened out for you now.**

**And, last but not least, I'd like to thank the writer that gave me inspiration to do this story – SaidWhatIMeant. If it wasn't for you, this story probably never would've come into existence. Your story "Strip Target Practice" is honestly the only Walking Dead fiction that I still read and review for faithfully. I love many of the aspects that you incorporated into your story while covering Daryl. That being said, I wanted to use the idea of having him work in close contact with a female partner but do it completely differently. I wanted my character to look, behave, speak, react, and interact with him differently. I wanted there to be different situations and events that occurred during the course of the story. And I wanted the progression of their friendship into a relationship to be just as different as all those things. So, while I might have used the same general idea, this plot and the my OC are VERY different. So I'm awful glad to hear that you approved of me doing this story and that you're all right with me having the same general idea about the story – a teammate for Daryl on his supply runs – but that we're going in very different directions with it and using very different characters.**

**If I missed anyone, please don't hesitate to let me know.**

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**NOW… Let me know what you thought! All reviews and messages are HIGHLY appreciated and I DO respond to all of them. If you're kind enough to take the time out of your busy schedule to read and review for me, then I'll take the time to thank you for it and let you know my thoughts on what you said. If I don't receive feedback, I'll just assume that it sucked and I'll stop posting this story. Plain and simple. I'll be posting an author's note after my previous author's note to let those of you that actually DO review post your reviews there. You're also MORE than welcome to shoot me a message.**

**With Much Love from Your Crazy, Twisted Author,**

**Libby**


	2. Author's Note: Warning to Story Thieves

**Author's Note:**** It seems that there have been even more instances of readers copying writer's works and pasting them onto various sites – whether it's Fanfiction. Tumblr, or other sites. Taking credit for someone else's words is plagiarism. Not only that but it shows a total lack of creativity, originality, and morals. This is also a form of stealing. In college, if you plagiarize, you get kicked out of school and it will forever be on your transcript. In the work force, you get fired and it goes onto your file. If you do it in school, you get an F. While there might not be any form of punishment for it here online, that doesn't mean that you can't get caught and that the writer themselves can't punish you for it.**

**For future reference, I would like to warn all of my readers that I won't be as nice as the other writers who have had their work stolen. I won't only post your name on my profile and list you as a writer that others should avoid allowing to read their works. I'll call you out on the fact that you stole my story and cite the story you stole from as well as the story you posted it under for everyone to see. I won't only ban you from viewing my profile and reading my stories. I'll also inform the betas and other administrators and moderators of what you have done and to keep a look out in the future to see if you steal other people's work.**

**Contrary to what some readers might think, we writers work HARD to come up with the ideas, characters, plots, and other information portrayed in our stories. It takes us hours, sometimes even DAYS to craft the stories you see posted here. Writing is NOT easy and plagiarism shouldn't be taken lightly by ANYONE. I have several faithful readers on here and I read in what little free-time I manage to get – and extensively over my breaks – so don't think for even a SECOND that you won't get caught if you try to steal parts of my stories. You will. And there will be severe consequences.**

**Just to push the point a little further, I'd also like to add the fact that, as a creative writer, I don't HAVE to share my work here on this site. I don't HAVE to post it for all of you to see. I do it because I genuinely want to share my stories with others that have similar taste in movies and TV shows. I do it because writing has always – and WILL always – be my passion in life. That being said, if people start stealing my shit, I'll stop posting for months at a time. Period. There might be other writers out there who push through it, but that's where I draw the line. If you do the crime, you'll do the time.**

**To all of my faithfuls and those that actually take the time out to review my stories and write me messages – so FEW of you compared to how many actually read my stuff – I love you dearly and I trust that you'll let me know if you ever catch my work being incorporated into other people's stories. I write because of you, not anyone else. I know that not even 1/10 of the people that read my stories actually take the time out to review or write me a message and those people don't mean shit to me. You have actually taken the time out of your busy, stressful schedules to let me know that you not only enjoy my stories but that you actually care about me as a person – something that's hard to find these days, especially online.**

**This author's note will be posted in each and EVERY one of my stories, just as a firm reminder.**


	3. Author's Note: Seeking Assistance

**Assistance Needed:**** I have sent the first chapter of this story to a couple fellow classmen from my creative writing class just last week. One of them has given me feedback on the first 9 pages of the chapter and promises to get back to me with the rest of his feedback just as soon as he's able to. The other one also agreed to get back to me with some feedback. I understand that life is very busy and stressful – I'm a senior in college, TRUST me I know all about chaotic – and I'm patiently waiting to hear back from them. HOWEVER, if there is anyone who is willing to read over the first chapter again and give me feedback on the story, it would be GREATLY appreciated. As it is, I'm already starting to go through and add things here, take this or that out, and tweak things a bit here or there. I'll be posting the revised chapter after I'm done with it.**

**For those of you that are interested in giving me feedback, please review or send me a message. Once you voice your interest in assisting me with revisions, we can do things one of two ways. I can either send you my email address – you will have to confirm who you are when you email me of course or I won't know who you are and why you're emailing me – and then I'll send you the chapter to make comments, suggestions for revisions, and pose questions for me. OR you can send me your comments, questions, and suggestions via messages right here on Fanfiction. The choice is yours. It is very important for me to know what parts you like, what parts you don't, what parts could be expanded upon, and what parts could be condensed or completely cut from the story. You can also pose questions for me – "What if you tried this…?", "Why do you think he/she would react this way…?", etc. The revisions I think are helpful will be incorporated into the story and those that help me out will get cited in my thank you notes.**

**I take my writing VERY seriously but I'm also always up for suggestions, questions, comments, and feedback of any kind. I'll never be able to improve upon my writing if no one lets me know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. You can make as many comments, raise as many questions, or offer as many suggestions as you'd like. The more detailed your feedback is, the more helpful it is to me.**

**In the future, I will be contacting those that have offered me assistance to seek suggestions with future chapters before I post them. I would like to make sure that the chapters are the best I can possibly come up with before I post them for everyone to read. This means that it will take longer to post the chapters but it will be well worth the wait.**

**If you would like to give me feedback on any of my other one-shots or chapters from different stories, I'm also more than happy to hear from you.**

**The firm warning from my last author's note still applies.**

**Libby**


	4. Author's Note about Revised Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**** Well, I've posted the revised first chapter of this story. I replaced the previous first chapter with it. Since it had replaced the first chapter, Fanfiction will NOT allow you to review for the chapter there. That is the reason for this author's note. If you decide to read the revised version of this chapter – which I'd highly advise since there is about two pages' worth of new material in the story that gives you more information about Daryl and Kalina's back stories and I've cut out about half of the lyrics I used. I hope you enjoy the revised version and I'm ALWAYS looking for people that are interested in reading over future chapters of this story – or ANY of my stories for that matter – that are willing to give me honest, helpful feedback. You don't have to be a beta for this site or have an English degree or any of that. All I'm asking is that you tell me what parts you liked and which ones you didn't and why you felt that way. The more detailed the feedback is, the more useful it is to me as a writer. You don't have to be a writer either, so any readers that are willing to help me out are more than welcome, just shoot me a message or add it into your review for the revised chapter one here.**

**As always, I HIGHLY appreciate any feedback you're willing to give.**


	5. Chapter 2 - If You Only Knew

**Author's Note:**** Well, this chapter certainly has a lot going on in it. There's a death, a VERY awkward but amusing conversation - I think you'll know what I'm talking about when you get to it, a drunken round of 20 questions, and some smut. No one has seemed to be interested in the idea of reading my chapters over and offering any comments or suggestions they might have before I post it – to help me along with the process of revising the chapters and that's fine. It just means that it'll take me longer to come up with ideas for the chapters, write said chapters, read them over, and then revise them. Sometimes it takes me longer to come up with the ideas for new chapters than it does other times – it all depends on how willing my brain is to cooperate. The revising process CERTAINLY takes up quite a bit of time too – especially when I do it by myself because I always try to read it over several times myself. That being said, I wrote this chapter in pieces. It was DEFINITELY something different for me but I wrote all of Daryl's parts first and then went back and filled Kali's in. I read each portion over at LEAST 3 times but I probably still missed a few errors – if you find any, please let me know. Also, all comments, concerns, questions, or suggestions are welcome.**

**Now, I'd also like to warn you all that this week and last week were easy weeks. I didn't really have a whole lot on my plate at that time. Granted, I was trying to get some things straightened away for college since next semester will be my last one before graduation. So, with any luck, I'll be graduating in December of this year. YAY! No more dreadful homework. I'm not gonna lie though, I'll miss my creative writing classes and the psychology courses. Anywho, just a little heads up: the rest of this semester is going to be HELL. Not only am I trying to get things sorted out to get an internship set up for next semester but I've also got to register for classes. AND, the biggest portion of the rest of this semester – up until like May 10th or so – will be spent on homework. Since we've only got about a month and a half left, it's crunch time, which means TWICE the homework load – and bigger projects to do – and less "Libby time". Less Libby time means less WRITING time. Catch the drift here? Another words, my posting will be fewer and farther in between for the rest of the semester. HOWEVER, I WILL be writing whenever I get the chance.**

**ALSO, I find the songs in this chapter to be VERY appealing – some of my favorites to be honest – and they're milder than most of the stuff I use in other chapters of my stories, for those of you that are opposed to things music by artists such as Marilyn Manson or Rob Zombie. SO, I would HIGHLY recommend checking these songs out on Youtube. I put these lyrics into the chapters for a reason guys – because they go along with the theme or events from the chapters.**

**Now, without further ado, I give you Darli – or whatever you wanna call them. It's the best ship name I could think of for them.**

**Chapter 2: If You Only Knew**

_Tell me all your secrets_  
_And I'll tell you some of mine._  
_Tell me only lies_  
_I know you're not that kind._  
_Tell me all your bad days_  
_And I'll fill you up with mine._  
_Drink them all away._

_No one ever has to know._

_Feed me all your favorites,_  
_And I'll feed you some of mine._  
_What do you believe in love_  
_And all the signs?_  
_Feed me all your troubles,_  
_And I'll put them in a line_  
_Sing you all away_  
_Heeey._

_No one ever has to know._  
_You don't ever have to go._

_Oooooh._

_Tell me all your secrets_  
_And I'll tell you all of mine._  
_Tell me only lies_  
_You're not that kind._  
_Tell me all your bad days_  
_And I'll fill us up with wine_  
_And toast them all away._

_Heeey_

_No one ever has to know._  
_Cause in the darkness nothing shows._

_No one ever sees the pain._  
_We had it all up on the stage._  
_Yeeeah._

_**~***__**Kalina**__***~**_

_Kalina smiled to herself as she looked down at the picture of the little family that was stuck there in the corner of the mirror on the dresser. It had clearly been a new family, the mother and father no older than their mid-20s. The mother was a pretty blonde and the father had light brown hair. The baby in the picture couldn't have been any older than a year old and it was grinning, displaying a few teeth for the camera as the mother held it on her lap and the father had his arms wrapped around the mother._

_Kali reached out to gently press her fingertips to the picture. It was just what she'd always wanted, a family. But the realization that that was no longer possible was like a knife to the chest, digging deep and causing an undeniable pain in her chest. She shook her head at herself and turned around to let her eyes roam over the master bedroom._

_With a sigh, she began scouring the place for anything that she thought the group would need. She found a baby blanket, something she could take back to Lori. She was sure the mother-to-be would appreciate it. It was so soft and cream in color, a cute little sock monkey face on the front of it. She frowned as the thought that she would've loved to have that blanket for a child of her own crossed her mind. She REALLY had to stop thinking like that._

_She shook her head at herself, tucking the blanket into her pack, and started searching again._

_She found a bottle of Aspirin in the nightstand, something she was sure the group could really put into good use. She found a small notebook with pink and purple spirals on the cover, something she was sure Beth would like since she was always writing in a diary. To be honest, Kali missed writing herself, more than anything. Well… ALMOST anything. But she wouldn't think about that._

_She tucked the small notebook into her pack and kept looking._

_She found a brush to give to Maggie, a few pairs of flower-printed briefs she thought Carol might like, a cute teddy bear for Sophia. She found a few shirts she thought might fit Rick, a leather jacket Daryl would like, a pair of sunglasses for Dale._

_Finally, when her pack was full, she stood and started out of the room. She'd just made it to the doorway when she heard the front door creak open downstairs._

_Thinking that it was just Daryl, she called out, "I'll be down in a minute!"_

_But then she heard it, she shuffling of feet, feet that didn't belong to Daryl. She heard the snarls and groans of the undead as she rushed for the stairs. Three of them spotted her and started up the stairs, their jaws working as they slowly ascended the stairs._

_She pulled her knife out of the sheath on her belt and shouted, "DARYL! WALKERS!"_

_She stabbed the first walker as she hurried down the stairs, sinking the sharp blade of her knife into its thick skull. She yanked the blade out and shoved at the walker, sending it rolling down the stairs, knocking a couple others down with it. She went to stab the closest walker but slipped and started tumbling down the stairs, sliding on her ass and her back as she cried out in surprise and horror. She scrambled to dig her feet into the steps, desperately trying to stop herself before she got down to the rest of the walkers that waited at the foot of the stairs._

_She managed to stop just in time, pushing herself to her feet and shoving at the closest walker, pushing at its chest to back it up just far enough that she could sink her knife into its forehead. She twisted the blade so that it would bleed out quicker, ensuring its death, and pulled the blade back out. She ran past the other walkers, her eyes frantically searching the house even as the walkers started shuffling after her._

"_Daryl!" she cried, "DARYL!"_

"_In here!" she heard him shout._

_She followed his voice into the living room and found him wielding his crossbow, firing arrows as quickly as he could, even as the horde approached him._

_She tugged her gun out of the back of her waistband and flipped the safety off. She pointed and aimed. BOOM. One walker down. BOOM another one down. BOOM. And another one. She was just starting to see the horde begin to thin out, relief sinking into her system, when a group of walkers came out of the kitchen, heading straight for Daryl from behind him while he was occupied with the walkers ahead of him._

"_DARYL!" she yelled, "BEHIND you!"_

_He whipped his head around but it was too late. She started running, shoving at this walker or that one, pushing them out of her way. She felt them grabbing at her but she didn't give a shit if she got bit. She couldn't let Daryl get hurt. She couldn't lose him, not Daryl. He fired an arrow at the first of the walkers that had come out from the kitchen but realized he was now out of arrows. Before he could grab his knife, they were on him._

"_NOOOOO!" Kali shrieked._

_She saw them tackle him to the floor, falling on him like ravenous wolves, tearing at his skin and ripping his flesh from his body with their teeth. He screamed in pain and tried slashing at them with his knife. But it was useless._

_She fell to the floor, hitting her knees, and sobbed as felt the cold hands grabbing at her. She watched helplessly as they fed on him. Then she felt the sharp pain of one of the undead sinking their teeth into the soft, tender flesh of her neck, tugging and ripping it away. Then everything went black._

Kalina gasped, her body jerking as her eyes snapped wide open. Her eyes roamed around her surroundings, frantically searching. She was in the back seat of a truck.

She pushed herself up into a seated position and craned her neck out to the side.

Daryl. Where was Daryl?

Her eyes landed on him, finding him resting back against the driver's side door of the truck, his legs sprawled out across the console and onto the passenger seat. She relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. But she just wanted to make sure.

She reached out, gently shaking his leg, and murmured a quiet, "Daryl?"

His eyes snapped open and that crystal blue gaze met her chocolate one. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Whazza matter?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she whispered, "Sorry. I just… Had a bad dream is all. You can go back to sleep."

He mumbled something about "don't know why the fuck ya had to go and wake ME up for" but readjusted himself in the seat and let his eyes drift shut again.

Kali couldn't help but smile at that. He was alive. He was SAFE. And that was all that mattered. She'd already lost one man she loved. She couldn't lose Daryl too. No, she might not love him, she might not have deep feelings for him. But she cared about him, about his safety and his comfort, about his happiness and his health. She couldn't lose him. He was the closest thing she had to a friend.

With a sigh, she settled back down on the back seat and stared up at the ceiling of the truck. It was just a nightmare, just a HORRIBLE, horrible nightmare.

_–=**Daryl****=–**_

Daryl cracked his eyes open and was quick to blink several times as the blinding rays of sunlight poured into the truck. He slowly sat up and groaned, his legs sore and stiff. He tilted his head to first one side and then the other, cracking it and rolling his shoulders to try to work out the kinks. But he gave up after a couple minutes.

Maybe Kali was right. Maybe he WAS a stubborn ass for not taking the back seat like she'd offered. But he knew she'd be comfier back there and he wasn't a COMPLETE asshole like his father, always choosing his own comfort over everyone else's. Besides, he was used to dealing with awkward sleeping places and uncomfortable sleeping positions. Kali wasn't. At least he didn't THINK she was.

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about her suffering as a kid. He'd been through hell himself and he didn't like the idea of another kid or another person dealing with that kind of shit. Sure. He knew it happened. The world was a HELL of a lot harsher than some people realized, worse than they'd ever like to imagine. But he didn't want to think about Kali suffering. That would only bring about more injustice. And he'd already known enough of that feeling in his life.

He vaguely remembered her waking him up last night, for no apparent reason. She'd shaken his leg and called out his name to rouse him from his sleep but had then told him that he could go back to sleep. It didn't make any sense. She'd just said something about a "bad dream" and then left him be and laid back down.

Still… At times, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened in her life to make her the way she was, so distant and hesitant around the others. She was just as fitful of a sleeper as he was and he wondered what could've been the cause of her nightmares. And sometimes she got this… this HAUNTED expression in those chocolate colored eyes. But he'd never ask. She'd spared him the awkward conversations, the unwanted explanations, so he'd do the same for her.

He twisted around and stuffed his legs under the steering wheel so that he was sitting straight. He heard movement coming from the back seat and turned his head to glance back, finding the dog sitting up, watching him.

"All right," he said quietly, "Let's go piss."

The dog's ears perked up a bit and he cocked his big head to one side, making a tiny smile tug at the corner of Daryl's mouth.

Daryl pushed the driver's side door open and climbed out of the truck before sliding out of the truck.

"Come on, ya big mutt," he told the dog as he pulled the back door on the driver's side of the truck open.

He reached in to grab his bag and his trusty crossbow and the dog stole one last look at Kali's sleeping form before hopping down onto the floorboard and jumping out of the truck. Daryl closed the door as quietly as he could before setting off for the woods, just far enough away that he could piss behind cover but close enough that he could still see the truck in case something should happen.

Daryl was quick to go about his business and the dog was just as quick to do what he'd been let out of the truck to do. After they'd returned to the truck, Daryl rolled down the windows of the truck and leaned against the side of the truck, waiting for Kali to wake up.

It didn't take her long. She gave a gasp and sat bolt upright on the back seat. He noticed a panicky expression fill those chocolate colored eyes as they searched the truck frantically.

"'S all right," he was quick to reassure her, "Dog had ta piss so we went out for a little stroll."

She sighed in relief and brought a shaky hand up to run her fingers through her long, raven-colored hair.

It must've been another bad one, judging by the rattled expression on her face. Of course, it didn't help that her usually-deeply-tanned complexion had paled a little either.

She swung her legs over the edge of the seat and pushed the door open. Daryl scooted to the side just a enough to avoid getting hit by the door as he leaned against the side of the truck, his arms crossed over his chest.

He watched as she hopped out of the truck, reached into her pack to grab the roll of toilet paper she'd found yesterday, and headed for the woods.

"Don't go too far!" he called after her.

"Just far enough that I can have some privacy!" he heard her call back, "Unlike you, I can't piss with an audience, Dixon."

He chuckled at that and watched as the dog trotted after her.

"Traitor," he muttered under his breath, giving a single snort of laughter.

There was NO denying who the dog thought it belonged to. And it sure as shit wasn't him.

A few moments later, Kali came back, roll of toilet paper in one hand and the dog trailing along after her, his ears perked up and his stump of a tail wagging as he gazed up at her.

She stuffed the roll of toilet paper back into her pack and grabbed out a tiny thing of Germ-X. She squirted a drop into one palm and rubbed her hands together, rubbing the stinking stuff all over her hands and fingers, making sure to even get the spaces in between her fingers.

She held it out to him and said, "Your turn."

He rolled his eyes at her but kept both hands firmly tucked against his biceps.

She cocked one ebony-colored brow at him and said, "Wash 'em, Dixon or you're not gettin' any fuckin' breakfast."

His brows rose and he cocked his head at her in an "Oh REALLY?" expression.

She held the tiny bottle out to him again and he heaved a big sigh before finally reaching out to take it. He squeezed a small drop out into one palm and worked the shit all over his hands and fingers. The stuff REEKED.

She tossed the Germ-X back into her pack and pulled out a single pack of Pop-Tarts. She ripped it open and offered him one, telling him, "Hope ya don't mind strawberry."

He wasn't about to tell her, but it was his favorite flavor.

He was quick to accept the pastry and took a big bite, earning a giggle from the raven-haired woman leaning against the truck beside him. He stole a peek at her out of the corner of his crystal blue orbs and found her nibbling on hers, taking small bites and chewing thoroughly before swallowing.

As they finished their breakfast, she commented, "I uh… I'm gonna need to make a run into town, Daryl."

His brows winkled at that. He would've figured she would've learned by now that he wouldn't let her go out on her own when they were assigned to work together, ESPECIALLY on a risky mission like going into town. FUCK that! If she just HAD to go into town, he'd go with her.

"The fuck we gotta go into town for?" he asked, turning sideways to face her and resting his shoulder against the side of the truck.

She nibbled at her lip a little and his brows wrinkled even further. It wasn't like her to clam up about shit.

"You know… STUFF," she finally answered, her brows raising as if she was giving him some huge hint or something.

He cocked one brow at her and retorted, "Yeah. 'Cause that's SO specific, Kali."

She sighed and replied, "All right! Pads. I need pads, Daryl. I should be starting my period soon. And I don't exactly wanna ruin my damn underwear and my shorts."

He scrunched his face up in disgust but nodded to her.

"That's all ya had to fuckin' say," he chided.

"Well… I thought maybe you would've gotten the hint when I answered 'STUFF'. But I guess not," she pointed out, "Besides, EVERY woman goes through it. And if she DOESN'T, then she's got bigger problems than a damn bleeding vagina."

His face scrunched up again, worse this time, and he growled, "Stop."

She actually laughed at that and asked, "Daw… Did I finally get to the big, bad Dixon?"

"I don't wanna think about the women in the group with a damn bleedin' pussy," was his response.

Truth be told he DID know that every woman experienced the dreaded "crimson tide" as Merle and their old man had used to call it.

She bit her bottom lip and he knew that it was to keep from laughing but the grin stretched across her face anyway, even with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

"Why can't ya just use Lori's damn… tampons?" he asked, giving a shudder at the last word.

He REALLY didn't want to be talking about this subject. Sure, he knew it was something women went through regularly, that it was just something women had to deal with. But was it an appealing thought? Not exactly.

"Three words, Dixon," Kalina informed him, "Toxic Shock Syndrome."

His head cocked to one side, his brows wrinkling, and he questioned, "The fuck is that?"

She sighed before explaining, "You see, Daryl, a tampon gets inserted INTO a woman's vagina –,"

"I KNOW that!" he snapped, "I'm not stupid."

"And it absorbs the blood from her period," she went on like he'd never interrupted her, "And, if she leaves it in for too long, she could possibly contract Toxic Shock Syndrome, a nasty little bacterial infection that can be caused by long periods of exposure to over-filled tampons. Of course, there are other causes for the infection too but that's what it's usually associated with. You wanna know the symptoms? Vomiting, diarrhea, high fever, a disgusting discharge from the site of the infection –,"

"Okay, okay! I get it! No tampons," he was quick to tell her.

"It can be fatal in some cases," she finished, "Even leading to organ failure."

"REALLY?" he asked, "All that from a really bloody – NO. Never mind. Don't answer that. This conversation is OVER. No more talking about bloody… STUFF."

She smirked at him and he shuddered before finally relenting, stating, "All right. We'll make a trip into town."

She gave him a smug little smirk and nodded her head, remaining silent.

"Better wipe that smug little smirk right off of your face," he told her, "Goin' into town will probably mean swarms of walkers."

She groaned, hanging her head, and he was the one to give a smug little smirk then.

She let Beau hop into the back seat of the truck before they both climbed into the truck, him sliding behind the driver's seat and her sitting over in the passenger seat.

* * *

The drive was a silent one. Daryl kept stealing little peeks over at Kali every once in a while, finding her with one arm hanging out the window, her long, dark hair blowing in the wind. He himself had his elbow resting against the open driver's side window as he chewed on the side of his thumb, his other hand resting on the steering wheel to navigate the truck down the empty road.

He'd never tell her, but he wished to hell she'd fill the silence, talk, sing, hell SOMETHING. ANYTHING would be better than the damn silence that filled the air between them.

He stole another glance over at her and found her resting her head back against the seat, her eyes closed and a slight smile on her face. He swallowed hard. She was pretty when she smiled.

He shook his head hard at himself. He couldn't go thinking like that. He wasn't her type, never WOULD be her type, and it wouldn't do him any damn good to go and get himself involved in something that would only end in rejection, in pain, in abandonment. He'd known ALL of those things. And he couldn't suffer through them again. He WOULDN'T. Hell he didn't even know why he was thinking like that, thinking that there could ever be something between them. There couldn't. And there never WOULD be. They were partners for supply runs. That was it.

Daryl was glad when he pulled up in front of the damn convenient store. Kali looked out the window on her side of the truck, even as he looked out his.

There wasn't a walker in sight. Hell the town looked completely deserted, the buildings having been neglected and abandoned by their previous owners. Some of the windows in different stores were busted. The paint on the buildings was started to fade from hours of relentless sunlight streaming down on them. There wasn't another car in sight. Trash was scattered along the sidewalks and the sides of the streets. But Daryl had learned at an early age that looks could be deceiving.

"We're stickin' close on this one," he told her.

She didn't argue. She just nodded her head, and he reached back to grab his crossbow and his bag before rolling the windows of the truck up and looking back at the dog.

"You're stayin' here," he informed the shaggy mutt.

Kali reached back to grab her pack from the floorboard behind her seat and set it onto her lap. She reached inside her pack and eased her .45 out, making sure to check the safety before tucking it into the back of her waistband of her shorts.

She reached out to scratch behind the dog's ears and murmured a soft, quiet, "Shh… I'll be back, baby. I PROMISE."

Daryl and Kalina both climbed out of the truck and headed for the store, Kali reaching down to slip her knife out of its holder on her hip even as Daryl did the same. He reached out for the door and opened it. They heard the bell above the door ring and held their breath, looking at each other as they waited a few seconds.

He saw those chocolate colored eyes blink and he nodded to her, starting into the building. She flanked him, staying right behind him. They kept their ears and eyes alert, ears listening for any sound, eyes scanning their surroundings.

"Seems quiet," she whispered to him.

"Don't get too fuckin' cocky," he retorted in a hushed whisper.

She rolled those eyes at him and he rolled his right back.

"Find your shit and let's get outta here," he told her in a quiet tone that was just barely above a whisper.

"'Find your shit and let's get outta here'," she mocked him in a nasally tone, making him grit his teeth and narrow his crystal blue eyes at her.

She headed around to the aisle where they had the… ladies' supplies… and he stood at the end of the aisle, his eyes swiveling over the layout of the convenient store, taking in the way the aisles were set up and what items were on which shelves. Surprisingly, this place didn't seem to have been raided by too many folks yet. There was still plenty of shit on the shelves, which wasn't normal for most of the stores they'd hit in the past.

He took a peek back at her and watched as her eyes roamed over the products on the shelf she was standing in front of. His gaze followed her hand as she reached out to grab a couple big packs of pads and his brows wrinkled. Did she HONESTLY need THAT many? She crammed one pack under each arm and then turned her head to look at him.

"Why don't we try to see what we can cram into our bags while we're here?" she suggested, her voice low.

He shrugged. He supposed it was all right. They hadn't run into any walkers yet.

They scoured the shelves and started cramming anything useful into their packs. When Daryl turned around, he couldn't see her and he stood up on his tiptoes to get a better look around, his eyes searching the different aisles for her.

DAMN her for getting out of his sight! He'd TOLD her to stay close this time. It wasn't that she couldn't handle herself but if a horde of walkers made their way into the store…

"Kali, where the hell are –," he started to growl before he heard something fall off one of the shelves a few rows over.

He sighed. She'd just gone a couple rows over to grab something real quick. There was no sense in him panicking.

But when a second item fell and then a third, his train of thought shifted. Now Kali could be a bit clumsy at times but she wouldn't drop THAT many things in a row.

Then he heard it, the unearthly groan and the shuffling of heavy feet.

He eased knife out of its sheath and started towards the sound. But the shuffling grew louder and he realized that it wasn't just ONE set of feet that was approaching from that direction.

Daryl crept to the end of the aisle and slowly poked his head around the end of the shelf, his eyes landing on a group of walkers that were shuffling into the store from the back entrance. There had to be about 10 of them. SHIT!

He jerked his head back behind the aisle again and his eyes darted every which way, trying to figure out the best means of escape. But first, he had to find Kali. He couldn't just LEAVE here there.

He heard a loud CLANG just before glass shattered, the sounds coming from the back of the store, before he felt a hand cover his mouth. He jerked his head around to find Kali crouched down beside him. He narrowed his blue eyes at her and she jerked her thumb in the direction he'd poked his head around the aisle. His brows wrinkled and she mouthed "Trust me." He nodded and she released her hold on his mouth, bolting in that direction.

Daryl was quick to follow her, heading out after her. He heard a few THUD noises and the sound of something sloshing and stole a glance back over his shoulder to find the geeks struggling to shuffle after them. They were like idiots on ice, slipping and sliding on the wet tile. There were shattered bottles all over the floor and the walkers were falling on the floor, tripping over each other, sliding into one another. Hell he couldn't help but give a single snort of laughter at that. He'd never seen anything like it. It was like watching America's Funniest Videos: Zombie Edition.

He nearly ran Kali right over as she stopped briefly and he looked down at her, wondering what the hell the pause was for, to find her grabbing a handful of candy.

"Damn it, Kali!" he scolded in a hushed tone, "Move! They know we're here!"

He yanked on her empty hand and she scowled at him but let him drag her for the front door and out to the truck.

They were quick to climb into the truck and he locked the doors as the first of the walkers started shuffling out the front door of the convenient store. She set their bags and her fucking pads behind her seat before setting his crossbow behind his seat.

"Ya fuckin' happy?" Daryl snarled at her as he put the truck in reverse and whipped it around before throwing it in drive and stomping on the gas pedal.

The engine roared as they sped off.

She glared over at him. He saw her out of the corner of his eye as he focused on the road.

"Snarl all ya want, Dixon. I saved your ass… AGAIN. If I hadn't have knocked that damn shelf of hooch over, we would've been walker chow," she pointed out, turning her head to glare out the window instead of the side of his head.

He heaved a big sigh and she added a few moments later in a quiet murmur, "They were headed RIGHT for ya, Daryl. I couldn't just leave ya ta fend for yourself. Sure. You're a badass. We ALL know that. You're Daryl fucking Dixon. But you're only human…"

He frowned at that. SHE'D been the one to turn the shelf over? Rather than rush back to him for protection, she'd tried to distract the walkers and slow them down? He knew that she wasn't a coward, that she wasn't helpless. He knew that she'd always had his back since he'd brought her back to the group. But he hadn't realized that she was willing to risk her own life, risk getting caught by a horde of walkers, just to protect HIS.

He gave a heavy sigh. Try as hard as he might, he just couldn't stay mad at her for saving his ass… AGAIN. And he hated that.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent searching old farmhouses on their way back towards Hershel's farm. They'd be back at the farm tomorrow and they'd have to gather as much food and supplies as they could to make their trip worthwhile. Sure, they'd managed to stuff a few things into their packs back at the convenient store before the horde of walkers had shuffled in, but there wasn't much to show for their trip so far other than the truck and the dog. And those things wouldn't do any good to fill the hungry bellies that were no doubt waiting for them back at the farm.

The silence dragged on between Daryl and Kali, clear through the afternoon and into the early evening. It was really starting to wear at his fucking nerves. He knew that he was the cause of her silence, that he was the one she was mad at instead of the walkers, and the guilt ate him up inside. It was like a relentless hound on the trail of a rabbit. And it just didn't set well with him.

After they'd cleared the last house, the sun sinking low behind the trees, he decided that it would be a good place to bed down for the night.

"We'll stay here for the night," he announced to her.

She just carried her pack into the kitchen and pulled a couple things out before setting her pack on the floor next to the counter. She turned the stove on and found a pan, going over to fill it with water at the sink and set it on the burner she'd turned on. She grabbed a smaller pan out of the same cabinet she'd found the larger one in and set it on another burner, turning that one on too.

She worked in silence as she fixed them dinner. In less than half an hour, she set a plate of pasta in front of him at the kitchen table, little shell noodles covered in tomato sauce. She set a fork beside his plate and took her own over to the counter, hopping up on the counter and tucking into her food without so much as a single syllable. The dog sat down on his haunches, staring up at her as she scooped a fork full of pasta off of her plate and guided it to her mouth.

"Ya don't hafta eat clear over there," Daryl grumbled.

"Shut up and eat your fuckin' food, Dixon," she snapped.

His head jerked back. That was the first time she'd actually gotten snippy with him in the 4 months since he'd brought her back to the farm with him. It was the first time she'd ever unleashed that anger on him instead of the walkers they'd come across since he'd saved her ass in the town he'd found her in and brought her back to the group. And he didn't like it.

"Now, listen here, girl –," he started.

She pointed her fork at him, narrowing those chocolate colored eyes, and told him in a voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, both eerily quiet and remarkably calm, "Right now, I don't wanna talk ta you. So just shut up and eat the food I fixed for you."

She hadn't said "for us" like she always said. She'd said "for you". He narrowed his eyes at her and opened his mouth to say something but she hopped down from the counter and started into the living room, putting some more space in-between them. Beau followed her, not even bothering to look back at Daryl.

Daryl heaved a big sigh and looked down at his plate, swallowing hard. He'd fucked up. He knew it. But he wasn't quite ready to admit it just yet.

He finished his food and took the plate and fork over to the sink, rinsing them off and taking the fork over to slip it into his pack. She came into the kitchen then, setting her plate into the sink. She didn't even bother to rinse it, which wasn't like her. She'd always said "By damn, if someone came into MY house and used MY dishes, I'd want 'em to at LEAST rinse 'em off. So I'm gonna do the same." She rinsed her fork though and carried it over to drop it into her pack.

She went over to one of the cabinets and tugged something out. Daryl's eyes widened when he realized what it was: a bottle of white wine.

"Kali…" he cautioned.

"Fuck you, Dixon," she was quick to dismiss him, "After all the shit we went through to try to find that group food, I think I deserve a little hooch. And I found it. So fuck off."

She opened up a tin of dog food for Beau and set it on the floor, letting him chow down. She filled a bowl with water and set it next to the big tin of dog food, leaving the dog to feast.

She took the bottle and headed back into the living room.

Daryl sighed but grabbed both of their packs, following after her. It was clear that he owed her an apology before she'd adjust her attitude.

He couldn't really say that he blamed her though. Hell she'd saved his ass AGAIN today and he'd been ungrateful. Sure, neither one of them was really one to sit there and trip all over themselves to praise the other for a job well done. They didn't have to. But he'd snapped at her after she'd saved his hide and it wasn't exactly a good response to someone going out on a limb to save a person.

He followed her up the stairs and into the only bedroom there in the house. She took a seat on the bed and he looked around the room. The dog was quick to claim the foot of the bed, sprawling out across it. Other than the dresser and a single nightstand, the bed was the only piece of furniture there in the room. And there wasn't a bay window like there had been in the last house they'd spent the night in. So he'd either have to share the bed with her or sit on the floor. Rather than make her feel pressured to talk to him or cramped for space, he chose to sit on the floor, his back resting against the side of the bed.

He heard her try twisting the top off of the bottle but she couldn't get it. She gave a frustrated growl and he reached back without even looking. After a few moments, just when he was getting ready to pull his arm back, he felt her slide the bottle into his grasp. His fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle and he brought it down to twist it open. He passed it back to her and heard her fling the top against the opposite wall of the room.

"'M sorry," he finally murmured, knowing those were the words she wanted to hear but having to force them out anyway.

And it was true. He WAS sorry. He'd acted like an ass.

She didn't say a word though, just tipped the bottle back and took a long pull from it.

After a few moments, he finally pointed out, "You're not makin' this any easier, ya know?"

He stole a glance back at her and watched as she hung her head, all that long, dark hair forming a curtain around her pretty face as she slowly nodded.

"I know…" she finally said, "I'm sorry."

The corner of his lips twitched as he fought back a smile. THERE she was. The Kali he knew was back.

"I don't know…" she admitted, "I just… I mean it's not like I expect 'Thank yous' or anything like that… I just…"

It wasn't like her to trip and stumble over her words. So he tried to help her out.

"It's nice to hear it sometimes?" he guessed.

She nodded again but didn't meet his gaze.

"Yeah…" she confessed, "I don't think you're ungrateful, Daryl. I just…"

She just what?

"Ah HELL!" she finally cried, "I need some more booze."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. He watched as she tipped the bottle back, taking a long pull from it. She let her eyes drift shut as she slowly swallowed the wine.

She held the bottle out towards him and stated, "I'll share if ya don't drink the whole damn bottle."

He gave a single snort of laughter at that.

"Can't make any promises," he retorted as he reached out to accept the bottle, drawing a healthy pull from it.

She giggled at that and he found that he loved the sound.

His eyes drifted shut and he tipped his head back to rest it against the side of the bed. It was the good stuff, sweet white wine. His mom would've loved it. His mom had preferred cheap red wine. Red Rooster Merlot was her favorite, but she'd taken sweet white wine when she could get it.

He took another pull from the bottle and held it up to pass it back to Kali. She was quick to accept it, taking a big swig of it.

_**~***__**Kalina**__***~**_

Kalina smiled to herself as she got an idea. It was a stupid idea, but it was an idea nonetheless and it would help them pass time.

"Let's play 20 questions," she suggested.

Daryl looked over at her and gave a single snort of laughter at the idea.

"The fuck ya wanna do that for? That game's stupid," he replied.

She frowned at that and said, "It doesn't hafta be. We could make it fun or interesting. I mean they don't hafta be SERIOUS questions, Daryl. We could ask silly ones or something."

He shook his head at her and her frown deepened but she just nodded. If he didn't want to play, she wouldn't push him. She nudged him with the bottle and he reached up to take it from her, taking a pull from it.

After a few moments of silence though, he finally relented, telling her, "ALL right. Ask your stupid fuckin' questions."

"If you were a flavor of ice cream, what kind would you be?" she inquired.

He laughed at that and glanced over at her, questioning, "Are you serious? THAT'S the question you wanna ask?"

"I said they didn't hafta be serious," she reminded him, "I thought we could keep it fun, make it interesting."

He shrugged and answered, "Hell I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

Kali giggled at that and informed him, "I know EXACTLY what kind I'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked her, "And what's that?"

"Rocky road," she said before explaining, "See, I just LOVE chocolate. And the ice cream itself is chocolate. I can be real sweet when I wanna be, so that's where the marshmallows come in. And the friends I had when I was growin' up said I could be a little 'nutty' at times, so there's the almonds. Now it's your turn. What kind would you be?"

He chuckled and nodded to her before nibbling at his bottom lip. He seemed to do that a lot when he thought. That or chew at the inside of his cheek. Sometimes he rubbed at his lips with his fingers or picked at the skin around his nails with his teeth. She'd picked up on some of his little quirks over the 4 months that they'd known each other.

Finally, he shrugged and replied, "Guess I'd be double fudge brownie."

Daryl handed her the bottle back and she reached out to take it.

She smiled at him and prompted, "Why's that?"

The corner of his lips twitched and she knew that he was fighting back a smile.

"I used to sit up on the counter while mom baked when I was just a kid. She'd let me steal samples of the batter and act like she didn't seen me. And she always let me lick the spatula and the bowl. Merle used to get so pissed 'cause I was her favorite. She knew that brownies were my favorite so she used to make 'em on my birthday," he explained.

She grinned at that. For the first time, he'd shared a happy memory with her. He wasn't really one to disclose ANY memories with ANYONE but he'd opened up to her and let her see a little piece of his life during his childhood.

"Well that's a GREAT answer then," she commented, "Now it's YOUR turn to ask a question."

He thought for a while before finally asking, "What's your favorite color?"

"That's easy," she replied, "Blue. If you'd asked me a year ago, I probably would've said black because I wore it so often and it was the color of my old truck. Or I might've said blood red because it was the color of the comforter on my bed, the color I loved to paint my nails. But now it's blue."

"Why's that?" he pressed.

She looked down at the comforter of the bed and gave a little laugh.

"It's just a beautiful color, very calming and reassuring. It's the color of the water when you see big bodies of water, the color of the sky on a sunny day. My apartment there in Atlanta had light blue siding. It just reminds me that there are still some good things out there I guess," she replied.

It was the color his eyes too, but she'd never tell him that.

"What's yours?" she inquired.

He shrugged and stated, "Don't know if I really even have one. Guess, if I HAD to pick… I'd go with yellow. The sun helps guide me when I'm out huntin' or out on whatever mission Rick sends us out on, helps show me which way I've been and which way I'm goin'. Sunflowers were my mom's favorite flowers. And the old clunker I fixed up for my first car was yellow."

Kali couldn't help but smile at that.

"All right," she commented, "Now let me think. It's my turn to ask a question."

He held up his hand and she passed him the bottle.

"What'd you wanna be when you were little? Like what kinda job did you want when you grew up?" she asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders and told her, "I wanted to be a fireman or somethin' like that. I wanted to save people."

She smiled at that and said, "That's a GREAT thing to want. Your answer's a hell of a lot better than mine then. I wanted to be an actress. When I was little, I saw how everyone seemed to love movie stars. I wanted people to love ME like that."

He just nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"What was the stupidest thing ya did to make your friends laugh?" he inquired.

She laughed at that and teased, "You got a couple days?"

Daryl chuckled at that and she finally answered, "I was always the craziest one in the group I ran with. I tended to run with the boys instead of the girls. Girls were too damn catty. There was this one time though… I decided to try to drink milk through my nose to make my friends laugh at the lunch table. I put the straw up my nose, took a deep whiff, and up went the chocolate milk. I didn't figure it'd come shooting out the other side of my nose though. So I started coughing and sputtering and my nose burnt like HELL but the guys all got a good laugh out of it at least. I guess I was always just 'one of the guys'. But we sure had some fun times."

He chuckled at that and shook his head at her. He took another pull from the bottle before handing it over to her.

"I've never heard that one before," he razzed, grinning over at her.

"Well what did YOU do, Dixon?" she prompted.

He got this crooked little smirk on his face, one she thought was adorable, and he chuckled.

"I was kind of a jerk I guess," he started, "I liked to pull pranks on the guys I hung out with. There was this one buddy I had, his name was Jimmy. I got him GOOD that night. There were a few of us havin' a sleep over at Davy's house. When Jimmy fell asleep first, we all decided to pull a prank on him. Since they all thought I pulled the best pranks, they told me I could have the honors. So I sprayed some of that Reddi Whip shit in his hand and tickled his nose. You should've seen him smear that shit all over his damn face. As if that wasn't bad enough, I decided to dunk his hand in a bowl of warm water. Poor bastard pissed himself. And I mean PISSED himself. He was ripe, TRUST me."

Kali got a real good laugh out of that and he laughed right along with her.

"Oh! I shouldn't be laughing," she told him, "But I just can't help it."

He nodded and replied, "I felt like such an ass but I sure as hell got him good."

She nodded and agreed, "It sure sounds like it."

"The boys never forgot that one," Daryl added.

She just smiled and gave a single snort of feminine laughter.

After a couple minutes she pondered, "Hmm… Oh! What's the grossest thing you've ever eaten?"

Daryl scrunched up his face and answered, "Caviar."

Her whole face contorted in disgust and she cried, "Eww!"

He just nodded and explained, "YEAH. Merle and I decided to stop by this party one time in a town we were in. It was one of those fancy ones, you know? Some rich schmuck must've thrown it. We decided we'd be hot shots and try some of their food. Merle dared me to eat caviar. I did. And I damn near puked."

She stuck out her tongue and made a "Leck!" noise before shaking her head.

"Did you know those things are fish eggs?" she asked him.

He shook his head and replied, "Nah. But I do now."

"What about you?" he pressed, "What'd you eat?"

"Liver and onions," Kali told him, sticking out her tongue as her body gave a shudder of revulsion.

He chuckled at that.

"What's the funniest drunken moment you've had?" Daryl questioned.

She groaned and said, "I'm usually a real 'amusing' drunk I'm told. I get giggly and stupid. Apparently I'm a real flirt too. I guess I decided to dance on the bar one night and I put on quite a show… until I fell off the bar and onto someone's lap."

He chuckled and shook his head at her.

"What about YOU, Dixon?" she asked.

He gave a little grin and informed her, "I think it was probably the time I puked on Merle. He was raggin' on me about somethin' and I KNEW it was comin'. I could just feel my stomach churnin'. And I was sick of listenin' to him bitch. So I just turned around and threw up all over him. You should've seen his face."

"Eww!" she exclaimed, her face wrinkling up in disgust, "GROSS!"

He just laughed at that.

"What's the most embarrassing moment you can remember?" he inquired.

"Hey!" she cried, "You skipped me, you little cheater!"

He just laughed and said, "Sorry."

Kali shrugged but stated, "It's all right. I'll letcha have that one. That was a good question. Let's see…"

She lifted one hand and began to tap on her chin as she thought.

Finally, she commented, "I think I was probably about 16 when I was walkin' back to mom's house. The guy I had a crush on was walkin' with me and I saw a mud puddle. I decided that it would be fun to run through it and I grinned over at him and took off. I didn't realize there was a damn hole in the road hiding under that mud puddle. So I twisted my ankle, flew at least 3 feet through the air, skidded through the gravel, and landed face first in another mud puddle. I hobbled all the way home."

Daryl was cracking up, laughing at her story, and she pointed at him, retorting, "Yeah. You laugh. My underwear were so fucking soaked with mud that I washed them 5 fucking times and they STILL didn't come clean. My UNDERWEAR. And I'll have you know that I had to pull rocks out of my knee with a pair of fucking tweezers. It was NOT a fun day."

He just laughed harder.

"Did he at least walk ya home after that?" Daryl asked her.

She nodded and answered, "Yeah. He came running to make sure I was all right. He wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me hobble home."

He nodded and she prompted, "WELL… What about you, Dixon? What's YOUR embarrassing story?"

"Walkin' in on Merle makin' out with one of my school teachers when I was in high school," he told her.

Kali gasped and her eyes grew real wide.

"YEAH," he said, nodding, "NOT fun."

"You win, my friend," she said, her tone sympathetic, "You win."

She held the bottle up as it toasting to him and then took a drink before handing it to him again.

_–=**Daryl****=–**_

When the bottle was empty, Daryl rolled it across the floor and it bumped into the wall on the opposite side of the bedroom, wobbling first one way and then the other before coming to a complete stop. Kali giggled a little and he stole a peek over at her, finding her grinning from ear to ear.

Yeah. She was lit.

She sprawled out on the bed, lying on her stomach with her head facing him while he rested the back of his head against the side of the bed.

"I'm not tired," she announced.

"Me neither," he replied.

"Daryl…?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hmm…?" he inquired, letting his head loll to the side so that he could meet her gaze as she rested her cheek on one of her arms.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" she questioned.

He just laughed and said, "Ya just did."

She giggled and the corner of his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. He cracked his eyes open again to find her shaking her head and smiling at him.

"No! I mean really," she stated.

"I guess so," he told her.

"What did you do?" she asked him.

His brows wrinkled in confusion and she quickly added, "I mean… Before all this. Before the world went to shit."

He turned his head, looking anywhere but at her. He wished people would just give that a fucking rest. Hell they were ALWAYS asking him what it was that he'd done, trying to guess what it was that he'd done with his life before the damn walkers had taken over.

"It's just…" she started before sighing and then continuing on to say, "The rest of the group has this bet goin', ya see? And I didn't put any money in. That shit's rude if you ask me, bettin' on people and stuff like that. Shane says he thinks you were unemployed but that's a bunch of bullshit if ya ask me. A man like you works WAY too damn hard to have been unemployed before the fuckin' zombie apocalypse. Glenn says he thinks you were a trail guide or somethin' like that. But I just can't see you takin' a bunch of stuck up rich folks out into the woods and dealin' with all their fussin' and shit for hours at a time. And Andrea swears that you were a mechanic. You ARE pretty good with cars and motorcycles I guess. So that one makes more sense than the others. It sure as hell beats Lori's guess. She bet that you were a garbage man."

She gave a feminine little snort of laughter after that one and shook her head at the idea.

He didn't like that, didn't like the idea of the others members of the group betting on him like he was some kind of fucking racehorse or something, like it was some sort of game. That was his LIFE they were wagering on. Guessing was one thing. But betting? That was a WHOLE new level of disrespect.

"And whadda YOU think?" he questioned, his piercing, blue gaze trained on her.

And he found that he was actually interested in her response. He WANTED to know what she thought he'd done. He WANTED to know what she thought of him. She was the closest thing he had to a friend in that group. She was the only one that had ever stood up for him, had ever taken the time to get to know him and understand him. She'd already said that she thought he was a hard worker and she'd shot down most of the ideas the other members of the group had offered up.

"I think they're ALL wrong," she announced, "You're a harder worker than anyone else in that damn group. That's what I think. And not just when we're out on our supply runs and stuff either. You help whenever you're needed, whatever the reason. I think you were a construction worker."

He couldn't help but crack a little smile at that. She sure was an opinionated little thing. She was feisty too, and he liked that. It made her more interesting.

"Well they're ALL wrong," he informed her, "ESPECIALLY Shane. I just moved around from place to place with Merle after graduatin' from high school. We worked whatever odd jobs we could to scrape up a little cash. We did ALL kinds of shit."

She nodded, nibbling at her bottom lip, but she didn't say a word. He found his smile quickly fading. Had her thoughts of him changed after that? Did she think that he was just a stupid redneck? That he was plain white trash? Hell that's what everyone else in the group thought of him, even Merle.

"What'd YOU do?" he inquired, wanting to shift the conversation away from himself.

She just laughed and answered, "I was an editor for a newspaper. It was a hell of a lot easier than having to go out and find the stories myself since all I did was read their stuff over and suggest corrections for them before they made the cut and I passed them on up the line. But I'll letcha in on a little secret. I hated it."

His brows hiked up his forehead. She'd been an editor for a newspaper? She had to be pretty smart for that, he'd bet. But it probably meant that she'd been some damn stuck up bitch before everything had gone to shit. He imagined editors probably made quite a bit of money and they DEFINITELY worked in an office. It wasn't anything like manual labor. And it made him wonder how the hell she'd managed to go from an editor to a survivalist after the zombie apocalypse broke out. What REALLY piqued his interest was how the hell she'd managed to make the shift so fast and so… WELL.

"Why's that?" he asked.

He turned his head to rest the side of it against the old comforter, watching her as she picked at the comforter with one semi-long nail.

"It was easy. Don't get me wrong. But it got boring after a while. And I won't lie. Some of those writers were GODAWFUL. What I REALLY loved was creative writing. I loved to write stories. But you don't go to college to be an author. You've gotta be realistic. You've gotta have a game plan and get a full-time job to support yourself. We can't all be Stephen King and have tons of books published. We can't all sell hundreds of copies of those books. So I applied everywhere I could think of. I was lucky enough that the paper hired me on as an intern. Once I graduated, I got a job there," she explained.

He frowned at that. She'd given up on her dreams to get a job she wasn't happy with? But there it was again, that haunting sense of realism. She'd never seemed to be much of an optimist. Maybe THAT'S how she'd managed to last so long in the world the way it was today, despite the fact that she'd been an office worker. That sense of realism was probably the thing they shared the most, their biggest similarity.

"Well surely ya kept writin' after ya got the job?" he pressed.

But she just shook her head, a pout curling at her full lips, and said, "No. I just didn't have the time for it anymore."

He could tell from the pain in her voice that she'd regretted it.

But he knew now. She'd gone to college. She'd been an editor for a newspaper. She'd NEVER want anything to do with a man like him. He wasn't her type at ALL, would NEVER be good enough for her. And, to be honest, he didn't know why it even mattered to him. It wasn't like he had feelings for her, nothing more than the partnership they shared on trips like these, missions on which they were sent to find food and supplies for the rest of the group. It was just another harsh reminder that women weren't exactly his strong suit, nor were they interested in him unless he was providing them with protection, food, or supplies. Still, he couldn't deny that Kali seemed to think of him as more than just a provider. She treated him like a real human being, something none of the other group members, even Merle, seemed to do.

"So… Where did you and Merle go when you guys traveled around?" she inquired, curiosity lighting up those dark eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Just around the state. We usually stuck to smaller towns unless we couldn't get odd jobs there. We stayed in a few bigger cities though, when the smaller towns didn't seem to cut it anymore."

Her ebony colored brows knitted together and she asked, "Well… Didn't you guys ever leave the state?"

He shook his head and answered, "Nah. I've never been outta Georgia."

She frowned at that. GREAT. Now there was ANOTHER reason he'd never be her type. Apparently she was a traveler.

"You?" he questioned.

She nodded her head and informed him, "I've been to or through 36 states and part of Ontario."

His brows hiked up his forehead. YEAH. She was a traveler. And to make THAT many damn trips, she had to have come from money. Either that or she'd had to travel for her job as an editor. He didn't really know much about that kind of work. For every thing he discovered that they had in common, there was just one more thing that set them apart.

"You travel for your job?" he asked her.

She shook her head, sitting up on the bed, and explained, "No. My father always wanted to go on 'family vacations'. I can't say that you're missin' out. I mean, sure. I loved the scenery during the ride. I loved finally getting to our destination and seeing what it had to offer. But the company sucked. Trips just aren't fun if you're not going somewhere with people you enjoy spending time with."

He shrugged. He supposed it was true. He couldn't imagine going on a road trip with his family. His mom wouldn't have been bad company but keeping Merle cooped up in a damn car for hours at a time would've made him edgy. And he wasn't exactly a fun person when he was edgy. And his old man would've been likely to ditch them all somewhere and never look back.

"Where was your favorite place?" he pressed, forcing the idea of his family taking a trip out of his head before he could dwell on it too much.

She got a huge grin on her face and said, "Niagara Falls."

His eyes widened. Holy shit! She really HAD been far away then.

"Ain't those the ones in New York?" Daryl asked her.

Kali just nodded and crawled towards the foot of the bed. Beau moved out of her way and she leaned over to grab her pack up off the floor. She fished around inside of it for a minute and then handed held something out towards him. Daryl accepted it and gazed down at it. It was an old, crinkled postcard, the moonlight spilling in through the window beside the bed to play over the picture on the front of it. It was a picture of the falls. They were all lit up at night, the water taking on all the different colors of the rainbow.

"I've never seen anything like it…" she nearly whispered, "It was BEAUTIFUL during the day. But of a night… They lit it up, all different colors, and it was the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen. It was BREATHTAKING."

He just nodded before handing the old postcard back to her. He wondered what else she'd seen, where all she'd been.

"Looks nice," he replied, knowing even as he said it that it sounded really lame but not really knowing what else to say.

"Someday, you and I are gonna leave Georgia, Dixon. And we'll go WHEREVER you wanna go," she told him.

He looked down at his lap as she tucked the postcard back into her bag and pulled something else out. A tiny smile tugged at his lips at the idea of taking a trip that didn't involve trying to scrounge up food for the rest of the group.

"So… Did you have a girlfriend or somethin' before all this shit went down? A guy like you…? I bet the women were TRIPPIN' over themselves to get atcha," she commented.

He was quick to jerk his head around to look at her, his brows wrinkling, and she just blinked, asking, "WHAT?"

Did she HONESTLY think that the women had lined up for a chance to go out with him? He SURE as hell wasn't some damn prince charming! He wasn't good looking. He wasn't smart. He wasn't charming. Hell he'd never been out on a SINGLE fucking date. And here she thought the women were just "TRIPPIN' over themselves to get at him"?

He gave a single snort of laughter and shook his head at her.

"Nah," he answered, "I didn't have a damn girlfriend."

She frowned at that before giving a shrug.

"What about you?" he pressed, "You have a boyfriend?"

She looked down at what she was holding in her hands before offering it to him. He reached up as she handed it over to him and looked down at it. It was a photograph.

"His name was Tariq," she whispered as his eyes gazed down at the photo.

There was a man with his arms wrapped tight around her, his cheek pressed to hers. They were both grinning like fools. He'd never seen her look that happy. Hell her moments of happiness were fleeting now, few and far between. But that came as no surprise, ESPECIALLY with the damn zombie apocalypse going on. But in that photo…

Daryl felt his gut clench with an unfamiliar feeling. Jealousy. It washed over him like a damn tidal wave. That man had held her in his arms. He'd made her smile and laugh. He'd known her in ways that NO one had ever known her before.

He HATED that man instantly. He was wearing a white wife beater that showed off firm muscles. He had jet-black hair, styled in a short, messily-spiked fashion. His skin was deeply tanned, his features rugged and masculine. He had a firm jawline and facial hair above his upper lip, framing both corners of his full lips, and on his chin. It was short, nothing bushy. His teeth were straight and brilliantly white, his smile just as charming as those of the actors on the damn TV. There was no denying that most women would've creamed their panties for this guy. He was the "classical good looking" kind of guy. He looked like he fit with Kali well, appearance wise. They were clearly what most people would call a "gorgeous couple". They were a HAPPY couple. But Daryl hated the guy anyway.

"He was my best friend since kindergarten," Kali informed Daryl, "He was the only one that was ever there for me when I needed someone. He always stood up for me. He was the only real friend I ever had. We started dating in junior high I guess… Our 8th grade year. I split the night of my high school graduation and he helped me. We packed all my shit, threw it into his truck, and took off. We never looked back either. We found a little apartment there in Atlanta. He just INSISTED that I should go to college, that it was what I'd always wanted to do and he was going to do whatever he had to in order to make it happen. So he worked as a construction worker while I went to college. I honestly don't know how we managed to make it, but we made ends meet somehow. After I graduated from college, I landed a job as an editor there for the paper, the same one I'd done an internship for, and GOD he was so proud of me. He was talking about marriage and kids. Hell we already had a dog. He wanted the whole 9 yards. And I wanted it too. I wanted it ALL. But then…"

She looked away, gazing out the window before finally finishing, "Then things changed. My luck turned bad again and reality came knocking."

Daryl's brows rose sky high as he took in the information that she'd given him.

Her boyfriend had been a CONSTRUCTION worker? She hadn't gone for some stuck up rich boy? It just didn't make sense. She'd gone for some guy that was a minimum wage worker, a manual labor kind of guy. And she'd said that she'd thought Daryl was a construction worker too… What the hell did that mean? If her boyfriend had been a construction worker and she'd been attracted to him… Could it mean that she was interested in Daryl?

He shook his head hard at himself. He couldn't go thinking like that. Hell he didn't know why he kept comparing himself to her and her taste in men anyway. He'd never be her type and he needed to just accept it. And besides, he didn't need to spend him time thinking about a damn woman when the zombie apocalypse was going on. They were partners when paired to work together to gather food and supplies for the group, nothing more.

Still, he couldn't help but ask, "How come you didn't date one of those fancy journalists or somethin'?"

She sneered at the idea and answered, "Because they were too damn stuck up. Most of them were anyway. My boss used to hit on me ALL the time, try to invite me out for dinner and ask me to all these company events. But I always came up with an excuse. I had Tariq. He was the only man I ever had eyes for. I didn't want anyone else. I mean, after all we'd been through together and the way that he was just so… sweet. No. He wasn't some romantic schmuck or anything like that. But he let me know that he loved me in his own little ways. He showed me through his actions and he told me every so often. He was always finding little ways to let me know that he cared. He knew me better than I ever knew myself. It sounds fictional and cliché and cheesy but it's true. And I didn't give a shit about the money, Daryl. I never have and I never will. I thought he was the hottest man I'd ever seen but that didn't matter either. Looks were just a bonus as far as I was concerned. I fell in love with him because of how he TREATED me, Daryl. He had a heart of gold and he treated me like I was his everything, like I actually MATTERED for once… He loved me, something no one else had ever done. And THAT was good enough for me."

Daryl chewed at the inside of his cheek as he thought about her confession. She didn't give a shit about what this guy had done for a living, didn't care how much he made. Hell she'd said she didn't even care what he looked like! He hadn't been romantic. He hadn't spent a bunch of money on her. All that had mattered to her was how this guy had treated her.

He could understand her desire to have someone care about her though, to have someone love her. It was all he'd ever wanted when he was a kid.

"God!" she cried suddenly, making him jump slightly, "What the hell am I saying? You don't wanna hear all about my shitty life. I'm usually not like this when I drink. I'm giggly and flirty when I'm drunk, two things I haven't been in a LONG time since the damn zombie apocalypse kicked in. And, honestly, I'm not much of a flirt anyway unless it's behind closed doors. I don't do that PDA shit. It's not my style. But I'm sure you don't wanna hear about that either. A guy like you would NEVER be interested in a girl like me, Dixon."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" he snarled, glaring over at her as he narrowed those crystal blue orbs.

What was she trying to say? That he wasn't good enough for her?

She gave a laugh that lacked any humor as she explained, "You're a good guy, Daryl. You're like my Tariq was in a LOT of ways. There might've been PLENTY of men that were interested in me over the years but only ONE of 'em was a good man. Good men just aren't attracted to me. It's the family curse. It started with mom, worked its way down to me, and even my baby sister got bit by the curse."

His brows wrinkled up in confusion and she looked down at her lap, murmuring quietly, "You're too damn good for me, Daryl. Ya don't deserve any more hell than you've already been through and ya didn't deserve any of that shit to begin with. You're better off without me. I'm bad news. Hell if it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all. The only good man that was ever in my life…"

She cut herself off and shook her head hard, as if she was trying to rid herself of whatever thoughts were plaguing her mind.

He jerked his head back a little. HE was too good for HER? Where the hell was this shit coming from? Hell most women thought he wasn't good enough for THEM! Not only that but most people didn't want to be caught DEAD with him. They hadn't wanted to be associated with him before the zombie apocalypse and all they wanted from him now was food, protection, or supplies.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, slapping a palm to her forehead with a loud SMACK.

She rubbed her hand down over her face and groaned before informing him, "GOD I'm depressing tonight. I don't know if it's the booze talkin' or the damn shit storm that's become my life but I'm gonna piss and then I'm gonna go the fuck to sleep. I've already ruined your night enough. I'm sorry, Daryl."

With that being said, she slid from the bed and headed for the bathroom.

When she returned, she slid under the covers and patted the spot beside her for the shaggy mutt to curl up beside her, which he was quick to do. She wrapped an arm around him and snuggled up to him, tugging the covers up over them.

"Mmm… Night, Beau," she told the dog.

It was silent for a few moments before she finally added, "Night, Daryl."

"Night," he replied.

She'd sure as hell given him a LOT to think about.

_**~***__**Kalina**__***~**_

_Kalina darted into the old barn, Daryl right behind her. He closed the door behind him and they both grabbed a thick, sturdy board, barring the double doors. The doors rattled a little but the walkers weren't even strong enough to make the doors move inward, just enough to make a noise._

"_You think that'll hold 'em?" she questioned, glancing up at him._

_Those crystal blue orbs gazed down at her and he nodded, replying, "Yeah. Should hold 'em. If not, we've got…"_

_He looked around before smirking and replying, "Scythes, pitchforks, shovels. Hell take your pick."_

_She giggled at that and shook her head. It seemed that his sense of humor was just as sick and twisted hers was. But the zombie apocalypse would do that to a person._

"_SO…" she pondered out loud, "What the fuck are we gonna do 'til they go away?"_

_Her eyes roamed around the barn and a frown curled at her lips when she didn't spot anything to amuse themselves with. Finally, her gaze found him again and she froze._

_The smell of your bare skin_  
_The touch of your fingertips_  
_The sweet taste of your lips_  
_Your eyes that pull me in_

_I dont wanna wake up if I'm not alive_  
_Everything I gave up is worth the other side_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you_  
_So what you got for me?_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_

_You know just what to say_  
_To make me melt away_  
_And everything to do_  
_To make me come again_

_I dont wanna wake up if I'm not alive_  
_Everything I gave up is worth the other side_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_

_Got for me?_

_What you got for me?_

_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_

_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_  
_I wanna feel you, taste you, touch you._  
_So what you got for me?_

_There it was. There was a look in his eyes that she'd never seen before. Something intense. Something… undeniable. His eyes were slightly darker, a little heavy-lidded._

_No. There was NO way in hell that was desire. Daryl Dixon would NEVER want a woman like her. And he'd be a HELL of a lot better off WITHOUT her._

"_Daryl –," she started._

_But he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to cup the back of her head. His fingers sifted through her long, wavy, raven-colored hair as he gazed down at her. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart stopped beating altogether before it began to race, beating frantically against her ribcage._

"_This isn't smart –," she tried again._

_But he just cut her off, commenting, "Tell me you don't want this."_

_How the fuck could she do that? How could she tell him she didn't want him when he was looking at her like that, like she was the sexiest woman alive? Like she was a tall glass of water and he was dying of thirst? Like he wanted her more than anything? Like he NEEDED her?_

_Her train of thought was derailed when he closed the gap, slowly leaning in towards her, giving her time to back out if she wanted out. Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, which were slightly parted, and back to his eyes again._

"_Daryl…" she sighed._

_But this time it wasn't a protest. This time it was a plea._

_His lips met hers and she let her eyes drift shut, basking in the warmth of his lips against hers, the soft, thin lips that were pressed to her full ones. She wanted to slide her tongue out of her mouth, to taste him, explore his mouth, but she just couldn't seem to get the stubborn thing to mind. Instead, she felt her hands reaching out fist on his vest, trying to steady herself as she felt her knees growing weak. For fuck's sake all he'd done was press his lips to hers and she was already weak in the fucking knees!_

_His tongue slowly slid out of his mouth, tracing her lower lip, from one corner of her mouth to the other. When he'd finished tracing her lower lip, he trailed his tongue over her top one before slowly sliding his tongue into her mouth. She felt him flicking the tip of his tongue against hers. He teased and taunted before swirling his tongue around hers a few times. She gave chase and he rewarded her with a little groan. He took his time, exploring every little nook and cranny of her mouth, claiming her and rewarding her when she submitted to him._

_He tipped her head back slightly, using his grip in her hair to gently tug, maneuvering her the way he wanted to. She gave in with a tiny moan. Her hands slid up from his chest, finding their way to his neck and on up into his hair. All 10 of her fingers fisted in the shaggy, brown locks. They were so soft, so thick._

_Kali teased his tongue, wanting to prove to him that she could please him too, that she wasn't one of those women that made the man do all the work while she just laid back and enjoyed it. He gave chase and she captured his tongue between her lips, sucking at it. She sucked gently at first, wanting to see how he'd react before she got too enthused. He groaned into her mouth and his empty hand skimmed down her side, down to her hip and on down and around, filling itself with the ample, well-rounded swell of her ass cheek over her jeans. She moaned into his mouth, a throaty noise that sounded more like a purr than anything. He got a grip on her and gave her a firm squeeze. She sucked greedily on his tongue and he ground his hips against her, making her gasp into his mouth._

_Daryl backed them up, navigating her over towards one of the pillars that held the barn up. He brought both hands down to her ass, hoisting her up onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, locking them tight around him, wanting to feel him pressed right up against her. She tipped her head back, her eyes still shut as she drew in deep breaths, her fingers still fisted in his hair._

_His greedy mouth started pressing hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, heading down her neck. His tongue lapped over her skin before his lips closed and he moved down lower, his mouth following the neckline of her black wife beater._

_He ground himself against her and she couldn't fight the gasp that spilled from her lips as she felt him starting to perk up in those holey, black jeans._

"_Oh God, Daryl…" she sighed, tipping her head back down again to gaze down at him._

_She found those breathtaking eyes fastened to her, his eyes now darkened to the color of sapphires as he lightly sank his teeth into the rise of her right breast._

_She ground her hips down into his and was rewarded by the groan that rumbled against her soft, sensitive skin._

_He eased his mouth back and she whimpered at the loss, a pout curling her full lips._

"_Tell me to stop," he told her, "Tell me you don't want this, that you haven't thought about this."_

"_I… can't," she finally admitted, "If I did, it'd be a fucking lie."_

_The next thing she knew, he was moving again, carrying her over to lie her down on a big pile of hay this time. His mouth met hers and she let one of her hands slide out of his hair, roaming down his body. That hand worked its way down his back and snuck under the waistband of his jeans, under the cotton of his boxers, to find his bare skin. She filled her hand with his firm ass, squeezing and pressing against him as she parted her thighs for him, letting him get situated in-between them. She rocked up to meet him, pressing against him as she did._

_He groaned as he sank his teeth into her neck. She moaned as he flicked his hips down into hers. She couldn't help it. He was so hard for her, so fucking irresistible. And he was sinfully delicious. His mouth tasted like cinnamon and chocolate, spicy and yet sweet. She couldn't get enough of his taste. Couldn't get enough of his scent, like the woods and sweat and something musky. He was undeniably masculine, so firm and strong and solid. She never wanted his hands to stop roaming over her body, never wanted him to stop kissing her, never wanted this moment to end._

"_Daryl…" she whispered._

_He eased his lips away from her neck, pulling his head back to gaze down at her, those shaggy bangs falling in his eyes._

"_I NEED you…" she told him, her voice barely more than a whisper._

_But it was out there. She'd finally said it._

_He nodded his head and sat back, tugging her up with him. His big hands worked at her top, shoving the black wife beater up and over her head to let it fall carelessly to the floor. He licked his lips as his eyes fastened to her simple, black nylon bra, her ample cleavage spilling out of the cups. It was a whole cup size too small. ALL of her bras were. But she hadn't been able to afford bigger ones before the apocalypse broke out. Hell it was hard enough finding 36Ds in any given clothing store. How was she supposed to go out and buy brand new 36DDs unless she paid an arm and a leg for them?_

"_Daryl, your shirt," Kali pointed out, "Take it off."_

_He smirked at that, giving a low chuckle, but nodded. He shoved his vest off first and then started working on the buttons of his sleeveless shirt._

"_Since when did you get bossy?" he teased._

"_Since I'm fucking ACHING to have your cock inside of me," she confessed._

_His fingers fumbled and he looked up at her, his eyes growing even darker as they met her chocolate ones._

_She reached out and yanked at the two sides of his shirt, sending the remaining buttons flying everywhere. But she didn't care. And neither did Daryl._

_With a growl, he was on her again, pushing her back onto the mound of hay and working one hand slowly up her denim-clad thigh, starting at her knee and making a slow trek up the length of her thigh. His fingertips trailed up the inside of her thigh until they met their destination. He cupped her in his big hand and gave her a firm squeeze. She gave a loud, throaty moan and arched up into his hand._

"_So responsive," he praised, grinning down at her._

"_Fuck!" she cursed, reaching out to claw at his belt, "Daryl, PLEASE. If I don't have your cock inside of my pussy in the next 20 seconds I'm gonna SCREAM."_

_He chuckled and was quick to lean back, working his belt open and popping the button on his jeans. He slid the zipper down and shoved his jeans and boxers down just below his ass._

"_YOUR turn, sweetheart," he practically purred._

_She nearly melted, right then and there. Instead, her fingers scrambled over the clasp of her own belt and she yanked it open, tackling the button next and finally the zipper. She shoved and pushed, working her jeans and her panties down her legs, her eyes never leaving the long, hard, thick cock that was standing at full attention for her, bobbing against his stomach. GOD he was packing. He had to be a good 7 1/2 inches or more!_

_Kali felt him tugging at her jeans, pulling them off of her, and then her panties met the rest of the pile of clothes that was gathering before he laid her back on the hay and took his place between her thighs._

"_You've done this before, right?" he asked her, those sapphire orbs peering down at her._

_She nodded her head and answered, "Yes. It wasn't good. But yes. I've done this before."_

"'_M gonna make sure you enjoy this," he promised even as she felt him guide the broad head of his cock to her hot, wet, eager entrance._

"_You ready?" he asked her._

"_Never been more ready in my fucking life, Daryl," she answered._

_He nodded to her and she felt him start to push inside._

Kali jerked in her sleep, her eyes snapping open and a gasp spilling from her lips as she felt something move beside her. She sat bolt upright in bed and her eyes met the object that had moved against her thigh.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered that it was just Beau. He'd shifted in his sleep while he slept beside her. Now he peered up at her with confusion and concern filling those dark brown eyes.

"Shh… I'm all right, buddy," she reassured the dog, gently scratching behind his ears.

She brought her hands up to rub them down over her face.

DAMN her unconscious mind! It was bad enough that she'd had a nightmare about Daryl's death. But now she was dreaming about FUCKING him?

She gave a groan and flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Whazza matter?" she heard Daryl question in the dark, "Have a bad dream?"

"No," she answered honestly, "I actually had a good one this time. I just woke up too damn soon."

He chuckled at that and shook his head.

If he only knew.

**Lyrics from the Song:**

_House Lights_ by Steven Strait

_What You've Got for Me _by Nonpoint

**I know. I'm evil. The death wasn't exactly a death. The 20 questions were a little silly. And the smut was strategically designed to tease you. Gotta keep you interested in reading more, now don't I? And how else am I going to get any reviews or messages? So, if you ever want to see more Darli – yes, this is a ransom of sorts – then you'll be a good little reader and let me know what you think. What parts did you like and why? What parts did you hate and what for? Let me know everything. I'm a greedy son of a bitch. I want ALL the juicy details. So don't be afraid to lay it on me.**

**And now, my favorite time: Thank yous!**

**To YelloFever: I love you to death, dear, and I wouldn't have made it to this point with my writing if it wasn't for you. I miss your detailed reviews. They always cracked me up and made me grin from ear to ear. I know your busy and YOU know that I understand that. You'll get back to me when you can and I know it'll be worth it when you do.**

**To Googly: It's always a pleasure to read your messages, dear. I can't imagine how crazy your life is right now and yet you always seem to find the time to shoot me a few messages and keep me in the loop. I always enjoy our conversations and I look very forward to your reviews. You're an amazing friend, dear, and I only hope that I'm half as good to you as you are to me.**

**To UsefulSpirits: Your messages always kill me. And I mean that in the greatest way. I've had to wipe tears from my eyes on more than one occasion while reading over a message you've sent me because I was laughing so damn hard. Your messages always stand out from all the rest because of your quick wit and your unique sense of humor. Your reviews are greatly appreciated and your friendship is certainly very valuable to me.**

**To ILovePotatoes94: I'd like to thank you for hanging in there with me so long. You were reviewing for me back when I was writing Garrett Hedlund fanfictions – I think the Death Sentence ones were always your favorite but I might be wrong (it's been a few years now). I still look forward to your messages and I always enjoy your reviews.**

**To mrsreedus69: You're the most patient and understanding person I've ever met on this site. I'm SO grateful to have someone as calm and grounded as you as a friend. It's very reassuring and it lets me know that I've got some support. I think you've read just about all of my Norman Reedus fanfictions and I'm always eager to read the messages and reviews you send me. I always get a good laugh out of them.**

**To scoobydoo0811 and MaddyMarie1212: You're still hanging in there with me and I'm still just as happy as ever to have you. You ladies started reviewing for me when I first started posting my Reedus fanfictions on here so I'd definitely consider you troopers for hanging in there with me while I've tried to post as often as I can – even though it's not as often as I'd like to.**

**To jeanf: It's so nice to hear from you, dear. Our conversations about Merle and Daryl and their familial ties have certainly been interesting. I've also enjoyed hearing your take on some of the other characters and it's been real fun to dish to you on some psychological aspects about the characters and the stories I write. I can't wait to hear from you again.**

**I'd like to thank my newfound faithfuls as well: Reaper07 and OnTheWildside. Thank you, ladies, for reading and reviewing for me so faithfully.**

**To BorchMadsen: I'm awful glad to have you as a friend, dear. You always manage to find a way to message me and check in with me. It's so nice to have that, to have someone that wants to see how I'm doing or how college is going or whatever. I always look forward to your messages and I sure as hell enjoy our Mac conversations.**

**I'd like to thank my fellow psychology lover – LostOne1775. It's not often that I find someone that's as fascinated by psychology as I am – or someone that knows some of the psychological terms for that matter. The conversations we've had have CERTAINLY been interesting and I look forward to more of them in the future.**

**To AllMonstersRHuman: You write the best Red Canyon stories I've ever read and I always find so much inspiration from reading your take on Mac. It's certainly sparked more than a few of the ideas I've gotten for various chapters of my own stories. I'm glad to see that you're still going strong and I wish you the VERY best of luck with future chapters, dear.**

**And, last CERTAINLY but not least, I'd like to thank SaidWhatIMeant. Your story "Strip Target Practice" was the best – and most accurate – portrayal of Daryl Dixon I've found yet. If it wasn't for you, this story would never have been written. Your story gave me so much inspiration and, for that, I'm eternally grateful. I'm definitely glad to hear that you approved of me writing this story and that you're all right with me having the same basic idea about the story – a teammate for Daryl on his supply runs – but taking it in a completely different direction and putting my own little spin on it.**

**If I missed anyone, please don't hesitate to let me know.**

**I'd just like to remind you all that I DO genuinely want to hear from all of you and I DO really appreciate any and all feedback that you're willing to give. ALL comments, concerns, questions, or suggestions are MORE than welcome and I DO take the time to read them all over and get back to those that send me messages and reviews. If you ARE interested in helping me out by reading the chapters before I post them and offering any feedback you can – whether it's comments on what you liked and didn't like about the chapter, questions you had about why I did this or that, suggestions on how I can improve the chapter or ideas for future chapters, or concerns about where I'm currently taking the story, PLEASE don't hesitate to message me and let me know. You can also do so in a review if you so choose. Let's not forget here that I eat your messages and reviews up like Dove's chocolates.**

**With Much Love from Your Crazy, Twisted Author,**

**Libby**


	6. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**** After a particularly annoying day – I'm sure you've all had one of these – in which NOTHING went right, I've finally had it. Of course, it doesn't help that I waited a week before checking to see how many reviews my latest Red Canyon story – one of my favorites out of all the ones I've posted so far – has only received 3 reviews. 3 out of 161 views so far. So, another words, not even 1 in 80 people are reviewing after reading it. 5 people added it to their favorite list and 6 added it to their alert list. This is nothing new. However, after months and months of this, I've reached the point where I'm quite annoyed and even a bit pissed off about it. I spend DAYS working on coming up with each chapter or one-shot I've posted.**

**It takes me at LEAST a few days to write each chapter and then at least a day to go back and read it over and revise it before it's ready to be posted. I'm a senior in college guys. I'm an ENGLISH major. I have a shit ton of projects and papers do for my classes, critiques to write for each of the stories we read in those classes, exams to study for. I spend EVERY night of the week working on homework and yet I STILL find the time to work on my stories. Granted, it might not be MUCH time but what little free time I DO get is spent on my creative writing. So it pisses me off to know that, apparently, no one cares enough about my stories to let me know what they think of them. After all the hours and the amount of mind-numbing effort I put into this stories, it means nothing? I understand. Readers have a life outside of Fanfiction. I TOTALLY get that. Hell I have a life too, guys! And I COULD be spending it doing something else – watching a movie, hanging out with friends, reading, or, you know, RELAXING. And yet I don't. I write because I want to share my stories with those that actually care about the movies or TV shows they're based on.**

**So, if no one thinks that my stories matter, that's fine. It's not going to hurt my feelings any. I have other things I can be doing with my time. The rest of the semester is going to be hell as it is anyway since we've only got about a month left of the semester and everything is due over the next few weeks. So, not only will I not have very much time to write, but, even if I DO manage to get anything written, I won't be posting until after May 9th, when the semester ends. That is IF I decide to post again. Call me a bitch. Call me whatever you want. I don't care.**

**For the rest of the semester, I'll be reading other people's stories and REVIEWING for them because every writer deserves at least SOME form of feedback to let them know how they're doing. It's not that hard guys. You let them know what you liked about their stories. You let them know what you DIDN'T like. But you ALWAYS tell them WHY. If a writer doesn't know what they're doing right and what they're doing wrong, they can't improve. Period. Their writing will never get better without them receiving feedback on it. This is why it's important to let the writers know what you think. Not only that but it also lets them know that you CARE about them or their story. Believe it or not, writing is NOT an easy process at ALL. So, be kind and considerate. Take like 5 minutes out and at least let the writer know what you thought of their story. It just might make their day.**


	7. Final Author's Note Until May 9th

**Author's Note:**** Well, in light of my last author's note, apparently I'm now an "attention whore" who expects nothing but kind reviews. This is NOT the case. I don't expect nothing but good reviews. This is entirely unrealistic. I'm an English major. Part of that experience is having your papers critiqued by your peers and your professors. Over the years, I've received both positive AND negative feedback on my papers and projects. I don't MIND constructive criticism, just as long as it's CONSTRUCTIVE. This means, when things are wrong with the story or the paper or the project, a person tells the writer or the person who made the project. But they also tell them WHY it was wrong and suggest how it can be improved upon.**

**After receiving several messages stating that I shouldn't expect feedback at all and that I'm lucky to even have people read my writing at all, along with the fact that I'm just "begging" for attention and positive feedback, I'd like to tell those people that you are VERY wrong. I don't expect SHIT. It would be GREAT to receive feedback of ANY kind, positive OR negative. A writer can never improve their work if they don't know their strengths AND their weaknesses.**

**After reading these reviews and messages, I've also come to the firm conclusion that posting on Fanfiction is no longer a priority for me right now. Obviously, my schoolwork for college comes first. To those that think I'm just going to stop writing because I'm being an attention whore and all I want is people to say nice things to me, you obviously don't know me as a person at all and I don't care enough to tell you about all the shit I've been through in my life or anything about my personality either. One thing I WILL tell you is that you should never fucking push me. Because I DON'T back down from ANYTHING. So, no. I'm NEVER going to stop writing. Creative writing is my passion in life – one of the few – and it always will be. I know I can't give writing up because I've tried it in the past when I was still in high school. I've been writing for almost 6 years now. However, that doesn't mean that I have to post.**

**I posted here on Fanfiction because I actually WANTED to share my work with others who liked the fanfiction available on the site for their favorite movies and TV shows. I posted because I wanted to contribute to the community here on fanction. I made a few friends on here and I've gotten to know some incredible writers on this site. I'll continue to keep writing – if and when I get the time – but I won't be posting here on Fanfiction until the end of the semester – if I decide to come back at all. I've got 2 years without posting before, so I'm sure that, if it comes down to it and I decide that posting on this site is no longer what I want to do, it won't be that hard of a decision to make.**

**Lastly, I'm not BEGGING for attention. I'm not asking for "nice" reviews or for people to shower me with praise. For those of you that take the time out to read and review for me – you know who you are, girls – I can't thank you ENOUGH. You've taken the time out to write me messages and reviews and get to know me as a person. Hell you ask me how college is doing and keep me updated on your own lives. I'm ALWAYS happy to hear from people, whether it's positive OR negative feedback. I'm ALWAYS happy to have someone message me, even if it's just to talk. I'm not some fucking attention whore that's just out to get nothing but positive comments from people. If there's one thing I've learned in life it's that for every person that gives you positive feedback, there will be 10 more that hate what you wrote. I get that. And those people are MORE than welcome to voice their opinions.**

**Over the years, I've helped friends and fellow college students revise their papers. I've helped people with their own stories. I've helped people on this site get their own writing started in the beginning stages. I've taken the time out to read and review for multiple writers on this site. I LOVE helping others. I enjoy giving them feedback because they've worked DAMN hard at it. So, to be quite honest, I don't give a shit WHAT anyone says about me. For 10 months now, I've posted stories here on Fanfiction because of the few people that actually cared enough to read it. Think whatever you want of me. I don't give a FLYING fuck. The few friends I've managed to make here on the site and the people that are in the Red Canyon community that I created know me for who I am and what I do. And THEY are why I posted. Also, the brand new Red Canyon story that I had been working on and almost had ready to post is now postponed until further notice. So, to those of you that DID enjoy my stories, I'm sorry, but I won't be posting at least until this semester is over and I can devote my full attention to my stories once again. If I chose not to post any longer, I'll post a final author's note in my stories, leave them up for a week, and then delete them all. Call it over the top. Call me a bitch. Call me inconsiderate. I don't care. I've been called MUCH worse in the past. Sticks and stones, love. Sticks and stones.**


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